


Through the Kingdom of Wolves

by Ashentongue, ToyBoxOfSuz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Hale Fire, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Nogitsune Stiles, Slow Burn, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture, Trauma, Travel, Werefox Stiles, Werewolf Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:55:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4469552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashentongue/pseuds/Ashentongue, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Wolf Kingdom is on the verge of a civil war, due to the sudden death of the King. Stiles is a runaway fox from the Wolf King's harem, wanting to find his way back home to Scott and his father in a Kingdom thrown into chaos. He meets Peter, a wolf without a pack, who offers him to escort him back to the border in exchange of some payment.</p>
<p>On their way to the border Peter and Stiles find out how the king died, why Peter isn't a wolf walking though fire and what 'darkness' written on Stiles' skin means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Kingdom of Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> First of all I'd like to thank the artist [Ashentongue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashentongue/works) for their AMAZING art for this fic, seriously, it's just amazing and I can't feel any luckier that we got to work together. ;;

 

 

 

 

_The king was dead._

_His body was still warm and bleeding out on his soft, red pillows when the news already started to spread like wildfire. It wasn't handled with care or subtlety at all. The king was dead and it was time for war. The palace went up in flames. The screams of the weak echoed even over the mountains, letting everyone in the Wolf Kingdom know that something terrible was upon them._

_The Kingdom was on the verge of a civil war. The dead king left it in famine and desperation in which only the strong Packs could survive. The Alphas basically had to carve out a piece of the kingdom for themselves and even then their packs weren't safe from the King's whims. Atrocities and battles were common for food, water and territory and the king liked it that way. He preferred his kingdom in ruins, in pieces... because as long as these wolves were at each other’s throats they weren't going after him._

_How wrong he had been, someone would think. It wasn't a battle that killed him, it wasn't a guillotine that beheaded him, it was something much worse, because he wouldn't have thought of it. It came from the dark, during the blackest of nights..._

 

 

 

 

 

Being a fox in a land of wolves was already difficult, but after the king was dead it was exceptionally hard. The brutes started to get even more violent and cruel and Stiles couldn't help wish he would be back home already. Back with his own pack... He had barely rested for two days, he averted the main roads and stumbled through dangerous forests and listened to ravens' shrieking laughter about how tender his flesh would be. But Stiles wasn't a fox who would be scared of empty, foul talk like that. Well, at least he didn't show it and ravens didn't have hearing like the wolves. They couldn't hear his scared heartbeat.

Stiles shivered as he was thinking about the wolves. About their king and his men... and the fox swallowed, pulling his coat tighter over himself. If he wasn't so scared and eager to run he would have bought a different set of clothes. Something that wasn't this flashy. Something that helped him to blend and get through these lands without trouble. He wished Scott or Derek would have been waiting for him, but he was the one telling them not to for the sake of their safety. They needed to be away from what was happening. From the chaos Stiles expected to come, but not this fast. That also showed how awful this king was...

Stiles was so lost in his thoughts and he was so tired that he didn't notice how the birds stopped chirping and more ravens were getting closer, watching intently from the nearby branches of the trees. Stiles only realized something was wrong when he stepped on a branch and the quiet noise was like a scream in the silent forest. The fox stopped in his tracks, his hand trembled as he was trying to hold his coat close on his body. He listened and smelled into the air. But the forest was too kind to its predators, Stiles couldn't hear or smell anything. But he knew. He was trapped.

Stiles licked his lips, carrying his gaze around the bushes and trees, trying to find an escape route. But it was difficult when he had no idea where his hunters were. And then he got reckless. Stiles took a deep breath and leaped toward one of the clearings, barely missing the claws that were trying to grab him. Though they tore into his coat, revealing the red and golden robe he was wearing. Stiles was sure not many knew the real meaning of that particular robe, but he was certain that it looked expensive and that... wasn't good news for him. Money was like a piece of juicy meat for these barbarians, the only thing worth something on this godforsaken land. Stiles almost laughed out loud when he realized he would be killed for the robe he was wearing if he wouldn’t escape.

As a fox, Stiles was quick on his feet and he was smart to find an escape route out of the ring of wolves that surrounded him. But he wasn't quick enough to outrun them and he had to somehow lose them in the forest. Stiles knew how to shadow his scent and hide in the bushes, but he was also starving and had been on the road for two days. His fine shoes were not suited for traveling through the woods on foot. He certainly didn't think this through properly and he only realized it when a clawed hand grabbed his arm, yanking it back.

"Shit!" Stiles hissed, pulling at his arm, but his strength couldn't match with the wolf's. The fox looked into those hunger filled eyes and Stiles knew. These wolves wouldn’t sell him, they barely had interest in his robe... These wolves wanted his flesh. The Kingdom of the Wolves was a terrible land, filled with famine and death and it wasn't rare for them to eat their own in their desperation. What did it count that he was just a scrawny little fox? They would gnaw at his bones for days.

Stiles saw his pack in front of his closed eyes as he was desperately trying to fight against the wolf. His father, Scott and Isaac... Derek. Others gathered around them and Stiles felt more clawed hands grab at him and he could even feel the snapping of jaws near his neck. He was doomed and he would be wolf food soon. He was thrown on the ground and felt his clothes being pulled.

And then, the wolves went quiet. Stiles whimpered as he felt their tight grip on his arms, but then they suddenly released him. The ears of the fox rang from the fight earlier and he needed a few seconds to gather himself. He wasn't sure why he didn't bolt then and there. The sudden tension gripped him too even if he wasn't sure what exactly happened. Stiles looked at his attackers, but their attention was on someone else. But as Stiles turned his head to look at the other wolf, it stepped on his back, pushing him back down on the ground.

"Back off." one of the attacking wolves hissed at the newcomer.

"Now now, is that a way to talk to strangers?" the new wolf chuckled in a deep voice.

“You’re no stranger to wolves of this kingdom, Peter Hale.” another wolf growled.

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me?” Peter smirked, judging by his voice, and put more pressure on Stiles’ back when the fox started to tremble. “That’s one more reason to talk to me with respect, pup.”

“Why would I show respect to an Omega who can’t find a pack, no matter how desperately he tries?” came the answer from the wolf who seemingly was the leader of the pack and Stiles whimpered as the wolves gathered courage to move closer.

“Who said I’m trying?” Peter smirked and Stiles could see him baring his fangs. He could feel Peter’s body tense and prepare for the fight. “Do you really want to do this, Alpha?” Peter started then. “Take me on?”

“If I tore your throat out we could have a feast by the fire tonight.” the pack leader roared and ordered his wolves to attack. Stiles screamed and tried to shield himself with how little he could move, but he didn’t feel teeth sinking into him or claws digging into his skin. Actually, nothing happened. The fox opened his eyes and looked at the wolves. They were all reluctant to move, eying Peter with suspicion and fear.

“What’s wrong with you all, how dare you act like a bunch of rabbits in front of an Omega?!” the Alpha snarled around.

“He’s Pete Hale!” someone shouted from the back exasperated.

“He walks through fire, leader. It can’t harm him!”

“He’s not a wolf, but a demon!” and similar shouts could be heard as Peter’s smirk grew and Stiles’ hopes were slipping away. The Alpha growled in frustration, looking at Peter with his prey.

“Let’s share.” the wolf offered and Peter laughed.

“As if I’d let any of your rotten teeth near my prize.” he chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a fox to savor up. Leave.” he growled and watched as the pack reluctantly turned and left. Stiles barely believed what was happening. He watched his attackers disappear and leave them. Leaving him with the wolf who walked through fire, apparently… Then he heard Peter speak, but didn’t understand what he said, he was too occupied with his attempts to not drown in his own breathing.

The wolf took his feet off Stiles just to reach down and grab his arm.

“No! No, let me go!” Stiles screamed and tried to yank his arm free. “I’m just a scrawny fox, there’s no meat on me and my bones are thin and fragile and it will cut your tongue. I’m- I’m not good for food!” Stiles rambled between heavy gasps and panted as he was trying to get rid of his shock.

“Well, you’re certainly louder than I prefer.” Peter raised an eyebrow, his grip not easing as he started to drag Stiles into the direction he’d come from.

“Please, please, let me go, please, I have to go!” Stiles begged, clawing and scratching at Peter’s hand, but the wolf didn’t budge. When his attempts for freedom were futile, Stiles bared his teeth and bit the wolf which made Peter loosen his grip so Stiles could push away from him. He made a dash away from Peter, but immediately felt a rush of dizziness hit him. He had been starving for two days now, he was at the end of his strength and this last life threatening encounter just took everything he had. Now he was stuck with someone equally bad and he will be food soon, Stiles felt the ground slipping under his feet again. The fox fell flat on his face, grunting as the dry ground wasn’t too good at catching his fall. He groaned as he was trying to keep his head clear, but darkness was glooming at the corner of his vision and he so wanted to give in to it. Stiles couldn’t even scream when he felt Peter grab his neck. “Please… I have to get back to Scott…” the fox whimpered, looking up at Peter, but that was the last he could remember, before his body turned against him and shut him up…

In the palace they had amazing feasts. Rich meat with vegetables and the most expensive wine. The king didn’t suffer short in anything and it always made Stiles sick to his stomach. The people were starving, dying of thirst. They had nothing anymore, because the King took it all... and Stiles was there to witness it. Not a long time, but just enough to know he detested the king even more. But right now he would have given anything to bite into the tender flesh of a rabbit or have a spoonful of vegetable soup. He felt his stomach complain that he shouldn't dream of something he can’t get, because it would hurt both of them.

Stiles whimpered and turned onto his side, pulling his knees up to somehow try and ease the ache of his empty stomach. He was only half awake, his headache crept up on him like the dawn and he whimpered again. There was only one other time he had felt so miserable and even then he hadn’t gone back to the palace. Then he smelled something... it smelled like... stew?

The fox forced his eyes to open just to be blinded for a second by the fire. Stiles hissed as his headache complained, but his hunger was worse. So he opened his eyes once again.

It was a small room, one of the Wolf Kingdom's houses. Made of wood and with a hole for the fire in the middle. The strange thing was that it seemed old and abandoned apart from the lively fire with the stew cooking there. Stiles' eyes widened and he quickly checked if all his limbs were intact...

"It's snake, if you're wondering." came a half familiar voice and Stiles scrambled to sit up. He couldn't see Peter from where he’d been laying, but after he sat up he could spot the wolf sitting on the other side of the fire. Stiles swallowed, remembering how they’d met and who this wolf was.

Peter Hale. The last of the Hales, the one walking through fire. The Omega who didn't need a pack... a lone wolf. In any other case an Omega wouldn't be able to survive, especially in a land on the verge of revolt, but Peter Hale was different. Peter Hale was alone, but he was strong and many said magic was also by his side. It made him immortal...

"Snake...?" Stiles asked, looking at the food. It smelled like... stew and seemed edible. Already good enough for him to eat. If he could eat... Stiles licked his dry lips, looking over at Peter. He wasn't sure if he could just ask for a taste. Just a small bite.

"Yes, but it smells good, doesn't it?" Peter said and slowly reached over to the pot with a spoon and scooped a small portion into a bowl he was holding. Stiles watched his movements like a starved beast ready to jump. He was so hungry that he had the sour taste in his mouth of a stomach which was more and more upset. "Do you want some?" the wolf asked too casually for Stiles' taste.

"I do..." Stiles said before he could stop himself. Peter just chuckled and stood up, walking around the fire to the fox. Stiles was too hungry to realize it may not be safe to be that close to a wolf that could scare away a pack of other hungry wolves. His brain was too busy screaming for food than to remind him of danger.

"And what can you offer in return?" Peter asked crouching in front of the boy holding the bowl to him. It smelled like life itself which was a little stinky too. It was far from rabbit, but it was food. And Stiles' mouth watered.

"What...?" The fox blinked, finally turning his gaze up to Peter's. He shivered. Peter was also hungry, but in a different way than Stiles. In a way only a wolf can be hungry after being alone for too long. "I don't have money right now, but..." he started, but Peter held up his finger.

"No but. You either have money or you don't." Peter said. "What else?" he asked.

Stiles swallowed, looking at Peter. Suddenly a familiar feeling gripped him. The need to deceive. Deception was what he practiced all these long months and now he had to use it again. Peter didn't seem feral, at least not in the way all those packs were outside. Peter was... Stiles shivered again when he realized, Peter was similar to the king. He forced himself not to look at his clothes or do anything that would sign anything of what he was thinking. He stared at the bowl of snake stew as he spoke.

"I- I have nothing to offer right now." he played his riskiest card, hoping Peter would take it. But judging by the smirk of the wolf he was smarter than that. Peter's gaze dropped from Stiles' face to his robe, which was red as dawn with golden embroidery. It was not made for travel, or to move around too much in. It was a burden Stiles had to carry ever since he entered the Royal Palace of the Wolf King. And it was worth a fortune... "You want it? The clothes, do you want them?" Stiles asked, spreading his arms to show more of the material. A small hope awoke in him when Peter licked his lips to look at him. It showed the wolf was interested and it was good.

"Now, what would I do with the clothes of a royal whore?" Peter asked in a low, amused voice that reached deep into Stiles' soul to echo in his nightmares. He felt all the blood leaving his face, slowly looking at the other. "Do you really think I'm that stupid, fox?" Peter asked.

"I hoped, it would be the wolf standard." Stiles snorted before he could stop himself. He was in a kind of shock. Peter wasn't like the king at all, he was smarter.

"Cheeky. I bet you were popular to get your mouth stuffed." Peter remarked, his gaze sharp as a knife and Stiles felt like he was bleeding. He also realized what Peter was getting at. "Those barbarians had no idea what these clothes mean, nor how they could satisfy something other than their hunger."

"This is why you saved me?" Stiles asked, his voice shaking. "Because you knew where I come from?"

Peter didn't answer him, just eyed him more and Stiles felt more naked than any time before in his life.

"Indeed." the wolf finally growled. "To have a toy for myself that was reserved for the king? I wouldn't pass on that opportunity. And if I'm done I could live on your flesh for a month." he added and Stiles felt like fainting again. If he hated wolves before he definitely detested them at the moment.

"So you wanna feel like the king?" Stiles asked in a low voice.

"I want to feel like a king." Peter said. Stiles shivered at his tone. "What's your name, fox?"

"M-my name is Stiles." the fox answered. "Let me... let me have some food and I'll... I'll make you feel like the king." he said at last, just barely restraining himself to make a grab at the bowl. His voice was weak and his gaze averted Peter's. At this point he would promise anything to get his stomach full. Which was a thing he knew he will regret. But then Peter handed him the bowl and Stiles almost dropped it in his surprise.

"Eat and rest a little. Then we can have something else." Peter said quietly, but Stiles didn't care. He gulped down the snake stew like it was the best beef he could get in the kingdom. He tried not to think of the price for it, or what would happen after Peter had his fun with him. Not now. But maybe with his strength back he would be able to fight the wolf off to escape. Though as that thought reached him he coughed. His stomach was so eager to get some food and now it would give it all back. Stiles whimpered and tried to keep it down. "If you get sick you'll see when I get you food again." he heard Peter's voice.

"I haven't eaten in two days, you bastard!" Stiles coughed, but tried to keep it together. He needed this food right now. Otherwise he wouldn’t have strength to flee.

"Two days. Since the king fell." Peter mused, tilting his head to the side. Stiles took a bigger gulp than necessary. "You were there weren't you? You fled the palace in the chaos." it wasn't a question and Stiles was glad for it. "Tell me, whore-"

"I was called a royal mate!" Stiles snapped, his cheeks blushing from anger. He felt Peter's amused gaze on him as he sent down the last of his food.

"Tell me then, oh you royal mate, is it true? The king was strangled by his own intestines?" the wolf asked and the fox wondered if he was being serious or he just wanted Stiles to get sick.

"How in Heavens should I know?! I wasn't there!" Stiles snapped. And his heartbeat betrayed him. "I want more!" he demanded loudly, motioning toward the pot on the fire.

"No." Peter growled. "You barely can keep that little down. Let your stomach rest and maybe later I'll let you eat some more. Of course with some payment in return."

Stiles glared at the wolf. He hated how he was right about the food, and he hated how Peter used him like he was a whore... He shivered even if it wasn't cold with the fire nearby. He had to get back to Scott, to his family, and he could only do that if he was alive. But at the moment traveling through the whole kingdom of wolves seemed impossible.

"I-I need to rest...!" Stiles said suddenly. He knew Peter wouldn’t hurt him. Not until he had his way and that was Stiles' luck. He could earn some time to come up with a plan. After he caught some sleep. Now that his stomach was filled, his body demanded some rest. "Just a few minutes, alright?" he asked and laid back down on the floor. It was uncomfortable, and yet still warm and dry, it was enough for the fox.

"A few minutes." Stiles heard Peter's amused voice right before he fell asleep.

Peter was watching the fox a little baffled. He wouldn't have thought that the boy would get so comfortable around him that he would fall asleep. He chuckled, taking another look at that robe. He always knew the king was a perverted bastard; the fox looked so young and clueless. Though Peter wasn't going to underestimate him. Stiles was deceiving and calculating, his eyes were sharp and not those of a 'royal mate'. He was either a slave captured and sold from the Fox Lands or he wasn't a whore at all. The clothes he was wearing were too big on his frame, showing that they weren't his clothes. But Stiles knew how to wear them. It meant he was either a new royal mate or he was pretending to be one. Also, Peter was sure that no royal mate would be able to be on the run for two days through the kingdom of revolting wolves. This little fox had a goal and someone to get back to. Scott. A friend? A brother? A lover? Peter actually didn't care. He will have his fun with the boy and then maybe let him go to let others devour the fox, as he wasn't a fan of fox meat.

Stiles woke up with a start. He had no idea what he was dreaming of, but his mind must have thought it was scary enough to wake him. He really wished he could wake up from the nightmare he'd found himself in ever since he stepped into the Royal Palace. His heart was beating rapidly as he looked around the small house. The fire was out, and the pot of snake stew was put aside. Stiles wondered about gettinga mouthful again and asking Peter about it, but he noticed the lack of the wolf's presence. Peter had left him alone. Stiles scrambled to sit up and smelled into the stuffy air of the place. No Peter. Stiles felt a rush hit him. He was free, this was his chance to flee.

The fox quickly got his clothes in order and considered taking the food with him. But he knew it would go bad quickly, so he just gulped some of the lukewarm stew down and he was ready to go. Rushing to the door he barely registered the noises outside, and as Stiles opened it he practically bumped into Peter.

"Wha-" Stiles stuttered as the wolf pushed him back into the cabin.

"Out on a walk and you'd be so rude to leave without goodbye?" the wolf smirked, closing the door behind him. "Is this how they train you whores? To be rude?" he asked.

"I suppose it's to match your own level of rude, you know." Stiles snorted, stumbling back and suddenly aware of the small space around them.

"You'd have left without payment." Peter started, cocking his chin up and leaning against the door. "Maybe I should count some interest for that?"

"No, no it's not that..." Stiles swallowed, feeling his face heat up. Which was stupid, because he should be able to handle perverts leering at him at this point. Especially after the king. "So- so uh, what- what will you do after, I mean, you're gonna eat me?"

"Perhaps. But if I like you, I may keep you." Peter smirked. Stiles wasn't happy with that answer. It still meant he'd end up tied to Peter. He watched the wolf slowly take a seat in front of the door, eying him like prey. Peter knew Stiles won't be able to escape. And the fox was aware of that too. "I'm waiting." Peter so helpfully added and Stiles' stomach turned. Peter didn't just want to take him, he wanted to be taken care of. The fox let out a shivering breath, looking around the cabin.

Stiles knew he couldn’t escape. He was trapped. And he could get out of this easy or difficult. Then he turned back to Peter sitting in front of him, watching him with that challenging smirk. The fox thought about his last months, of the king, of the other royal mates... and slowly descended on his knees. He remembered his father, a proud fox who lived near the border of the Fox Lands. Near the border to the Kingdom of the Wolves. Too near... Stiles thought about his best friend Scott, a wolf that had no pack for a long time yet he build one for himself. Stiles wanted to return to his home, he wanted to ask Scott and Derek if this was a good idea. He wanted to know if he did the right thing... These thoughts gave him the strength to crawl over to Peter. His heart was beating a scared melody against his chest.

Stiles knew that he should say something, but he had no strength anymore. He just wanted to get it over with it. Before he knew it, Stiles' hand was sliding up Peter's thigh to his crotch. He gave him a light squeeze, to tease and then moved to straddle his lap.

"What do you want?" Stiles asked then, licking his lips and eying something on the door next to Peter's head.

"Surprise me." came the wolf's chuckle and Stiles wanted to hit him. He closed his eyes for a second and moved his hands to Peter's chest. He noted his calm heartbeat and Stiles rested his palms against there for longer than necessary. For some reason it was soothing. Yet, as he reached Peter's shoulders, the wolf felt tense under his touch. It was different from the king's. Touching the king felt like he had to touch a slug and Stiles hated it. Peter felt like a statue under his fingers. Swallowing, the fox looked up into the wolf's eyes, just to find them blue and cold and almost threatening. Peter wasn't smiling or smirking, he was frowning.

"What...?" Stiles asked, refusing to look away.

"Just do it, fox." Peter barked back and thrust his hips up a little. Stiles noted he wasn't turned on at all and that Peter's body was tense still. It was so different from anything he experienced before.

"Then- then you just relax...!" He said, stroking Peter's shoulders. They were broader than the king's. Stronger too. And Stiles almost felt like they were warmer under his touch too. He moved closer, pressing his chest against Peter's just to realize he was trembling. He was afraid and nervous and he had no idea how he will be able to give Peter what he wanted. It was awkward and strange and Stiles had to concentrate hard. Then he leaned over, cupping Peter's cheek with one trembling hand and kissed his lips.

Peter was stubbly, it prickled Stiles' skin, but his lips were soft and warm. Stiles kissed him lightly, but there was no reaction from the wolf. Looking into his eyes, Stiles saw that he was still waiting for something. So in the end Stiles just closed his eyes and kissed him once again. His hand slid into the locks of Peter, noting how soft his hair was. Stiles let out a small sigh against him.

And then the man kissed back. Stiles expected it to be demanding and rough, just like the king's, but it wasn't. Peter kissed him as if he was hesitating. His lips were gentle and warm and Stiles pressed closer seeking the warmth Peter gave him. Their kiss wasn't like a first kiss, it was a kiss that _mattered_. Stiles felt the man's hand against his cheek, huge and soothing and he wondered how he could feel these things for a person who was about to hurt him. He pulled a little away, but Peter went after him. He pressed his lips against his in yet another set of kisses and Stiles didn't mind, even if the wolf was rougher this time.

For a time that felt like forever, they were just kissing, exploring and Stiles felt his lips go swollen along something in his chest. There was something in Peter's touches and kisses that felt too intimate. It felt like something Stiles had no right to experience. It scared him a little too. He was getting lost in it... and as he leaned in for more kisses, strong fingers clasped on his throat.

"That's enough." Peter hissed and slammed Stiles down to the floor by his neck. The fox groaned in pain, seeing stars dancing in his vision. "If you are really a whore you're the worst out there." Peter said, squeezing the boy's neck. Stiles gasped, grabbing on the arm that was holding him to try and stop him.

"No, wait, please!" Stiles grunted, kicking with his legs to try and get Peter off him. "I have money, I have lands I can give you anything you want please...!" he begged. "I was a royal mate, but only because I got captured and- and I need to get to the Fox Gate!"

"The Fox Gate?" Peter asked, barely sounding interested at all. The Gate was on the border of the Wolf kingdom and the Fox Lands. Of course Stiles was a fox and wanted to get home, but the border was a week away by horse.

"Please, my family... my father's waiting for me there, he will be grateful to you if you can bring me back! He'd give you anything you want!" Stiles pleaded hoarsely as Peter squeezed his neck.

"Promises, promises. Why would I believe you? We're living in a kingdom where there is no tomorrow. I take what I can now." the wolf growled, grabbing at the robe.

"You either take me and break me, having a good time or a full stomach..." Stiles started as loud as he could manage. "Or you can have your own fortune, your own land...! Please!"

"Oh, for the Moon!" Peter hissed, letting Stiles' neck go, sliding his hand down on his chest. Stiles realized he was feeling his heartbeat. If he was lying. "You promise many things for a whore, fox."

"I'm not lying. My family has a fortune and I can't get through the kingdom without help... You seem to be feared which can be useful for me. Just help me get to the Fox Gate and I will reward you greatly, I promise." Stiles wheezed, his heartbeat rapid, but steady. He wasn't lying. But Peter didn't seem to budge, he kept his palm against Stiles' chest, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"And if I'm not getting what you promise me?" he asked.

"Then... then you can... you can do whatever you want with me. I-I give you my life. It may be... worth something." Stiles swallowed.

"What could a dirty fox's life be worth for me?" the wolf asked and Stiles felt a jab of pain in his chest. Ever since he left home these wolves handled him like he was dirt under their shoes.  But he knew it will be like that, he was prepared for this and yet he felt more and more tired of it. Then Peter let him go and Stiles scrambled away, coughing and trying to get some air back in his lungs.

"If you want to get through the Kingdom of the Wolves at least seem like you want to survive." Peter huffed, getting on his feet and walking past by him. He went to the built in cupboard, opening it.

"Wait what?" Stiles blinked, just to have his vision blocked by a pair of pants. It smelled like rain and earth.

"The kimono. It makes you a target." Peter remarked dropping more clothes in front of Stiles. The fox gaped at him a little.

"So- so you're gonna help me?" he asked.

"I'm not. I'm helping myself." Peter said. "Now get changed, we don't have all day." he kicked at the pile of clothes. Stiles immediately grabbed at the pile.

"Are these yours?" Stiles asked, digging through the pants. They didn't smell like Peter. They smelled wolf, yes, but the plus that was Peter wasn't in them. A scent that Stiles felt strangely drawn to.

"Oh please, I have much better taste.” Peter scoffed. “This place is abandoned. The owners either died or went to seek a better life in a better place." he sighed. "So get to it, we don't have all day, fox."

"I'd appreciate a little privacy here." Stiles snapped.

"As if I'd turn my back to a sly and quick fox." Peter tilted his head. "Do you want me to change you?" he asked with a smirk and Stiles blushed against his better judgment. Then he dropped his clothes.

Peter watched the boy get changed quickly, just checking the goods he could have had. Stiles was scrawny, weak and too young. His skin had a pale tone to it, making his moles more significant. And he had a tattoo on his skin, near his hips, on a place where it was only visible if he was naked. He didn't want others to see it, yet it was still tattooed permanently on his body.

"What's with the mark?" Peter asked.

"It's the sign of servants..." Stiles answered too fast, pulling on a pair of too big pants. He was lying and they both knew that.

"The sign meaning 'darkness' is the sign of servants now?" Peter crossed his arms. Stiles closed his eyes for a second.

"It's... it's just a mark, alright?" he snapped, quickly trying to put on the borrowed clothes. They were still big on his frame and smelled of long lost strangers, but it was his key for survival.

"I do hope so." Peter remarked quietly and Stiles couldn't look at him for a while.

Peter knew they had to prepare for a long journey, which meant they had to visit the nearest city. Peter never liked these places, there were too many people, too many smells and the noise was unbearable. But even he knew they needed supplies and maybe a horse to travel to the Fox Gate. But Peter also considered taking a caravan as far as they could get and travel by themselves from there.

On top of Peter’s woes, along the way Stiles was extremely loud. Chatty. Which was a completely new experience for Peter. It had been a long time since anyone talked to him like this. Sometimes the whore he got for himself would get carried away when they got drunk, but Peter paid for those. This time Stiles was paying him...

Stiles was a fox. A 'royal mate' who had been captured on the border of the kingdom and sold to the harem of the Wolf King. Stiles said he had been there for a few months, but Peter doubted it. He was inexperienced and the way he kissed him back in the cabin... Stiles had never been with a man, or woman before. Maybe he had been spared to stay a virgin for the king, Peter wondered to himself. It would make sense, considering how far the king could go.

The reason Peter agreed to this pointless journey was to figure out the mystery that was Stiles. Peter didn't really have goals anymore. He had everything he wanted: power and freedom. Though he admitted a piece of land for himself would have been nice. His own hunting territory, with a house. A home. Though, he shivered when he thought about it and almost grabbed Stiles to drag him back and blow the whole deal. Peter didn't want a home. Not anymore.

"Are you even listening?" he heard Stiles' voice next to him.

"Do I have to?" Peter asked with a sigh.

"Well..." the fox blinked, huffing. "It would be polite?"

"I'm not here to cater to your needs, it's the other way around princess." the wolf pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't want to talk?"

"I'll talk when I want to." the wolf shrugged.

It's not that Peter didn't like to talk. It's just that talking was too revealing. In just a few words the person could tell more about themselves than they intended. Stiles wasn't saying anything specific, but Peter already knew he had never been in the Wolf Kingdom or away from his home for that matter. That Stiles was surrounded by a loving family before this. The way he would sometimes hit Peter's shoulder to grab his attention was also a sign that he was a demanding kid. And Peter wondered how far Stiles had gotten from his home and why exactly.

"I do hope your father pays me generously for you, otherwise I will have to skin you to get the money I'll spend on supplies for the road." Peter remarked as he was counting his remaining coins quickly. He never had much, it really wasn't worth much to him these days, and even less after their king died. But thankfully there were still fools who would want some and this is how Peter would get a bigger bag for their clothes and food.

"Shut up, he'd give you all you want. Just... help me get back." Stiles huffed next to him. "In one piece." he added quickly.

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind one less hand or ear. I could make brilliant soup of those." the wolf chatted, putting his bag on his shoulder.

"How about your dick, what kind of soup would that be, huh?" the fox hissed.

"Fertile I believe, so I wouldn't recommend it, only if you want some half wolf babies running around with you." Peter chuckled.

"Maybe it'd be worth it." Stiles rolled his eyes, though Peter spotted a hint of color on his cheeks. He was about to comment on it when he noticed the billboard on the square they were just crossing. Peter always liked to look if there was a bounty posted, because his main income was to catch thieves and murderers and drag them back to the authorities. Though, he wasn't a hitman or an assassin, he only did this when he wanted to. "What?" Stiles asked when Peter picked up his step to hurry and check the newest poster there. It mustn't have been older than a day.

On the poster there was a drawing of a young boy, dressed as a royal mate... with an evil, dark smile and a mole on the left side of his face, exactly like Peter's little fox.

The wolf was eying the poster, checking the reward. Two hundred gold. For the worst murderers who went and massacred a whole village the reward was around a hundred and twenty gold, dead or alive. For Stiles, the reward was two hundred gold for alive and one hundred for dead. And Peter already had him in his hand. He would just have to walk him to the guards and present him.

"Peter..." he heard his name, and Stiles grabbed his arm. He turned his head to look at the boy. Stiles' eyes were wide and his scent was thick of fear, but he refused to show it. "Let's go..." Stiles must have realized what Peter was thinking. And he was scared. Of course he was. He was worth more than murderers. Someone in the Royal Palace really wanted him. "Peter...!" Stiles started, yanking his arm and Peter grabbed him.

"I believe we need to talk." the wolf said and dragged Stiles across the square to a back alley. Stiles growled, but he didn't try to escape, which was a relief. "You offered me wealth, now the Royal Palace offered me an exact amount and they usually pay on the spot." Peter started when they were alone.

"How would you know they pay you?! The king is dead and the Head of Ministers isn't a wolf, he's a snake!" Stiles hissed quietly, seemingly afraid that they could be heard. "They won't pay you for me!"

"The king was the slyest snake of all and I always got my pay for murderers like you." Peter cocked his chin up, smiling as Stiles went pale. "Who did you kill, little fox, for they want you so badly?"

Stiles tensed up and Peter sensed he would bolt just a second before. Stiles tried to get away, but Peter grabbed his arm and slammed him against the wooden fence in the back end of the alley. Hard. The fox groaned in pain, but kept his ground, glaring up at Peter. Then he went at it again, dashing to slam into the wolf and bring him down, but Peter grabbed him before he could reach him. He was dealing with bigger and quicker idiots than this one.

"Let me g--!" Stiles screamed, just before Peter covered his mouth with his hand to shut him up.

"Do you really want all the bounty hunters to come at you now?" the wolf hissed. Stiles still tried to scream, trashing around in Peter's arms to break free. "Stop fighting and let’s reestablish our little pact, shall we?"

"Let me go!" Stiles hissed and Peter could hear his voice shiver from fear and desperation.

"I'll bring you to the Fox Gate." Peter rolled his eyes and Stiles went still in his arms. "I will bring you to the Gate." the wolf repeated, letting Stiles hear his heartbeat. He wasn't lying.

"You just wanted to turn me in!" Stiles panted, squirming in Peter's hold.

"I'll bring you there for four hundred gold." Peter said which made the fox stop. His heart was rapid, but his scent had lingering hope in it.

"But I..."

"You said your father is wealthy. He will pay the price. Or shall I turn you in?" teased the wolf.

"No!" Stiles gasped, stumbling as Peter let him go. "We... we will pay that gold to you..." he swallowed, turning back to the other.

Peter just grinned with too many teeth and motioned the fox to follow him. They had some shopping to do anyway.

Since Stiles was a wanted criminal with the highest bounty on his messy head, it was better to avoid the bigger roads. It also meant they couldn't join any caravan either. They had to go alone and through barely used paths. Peter hoped that his reputation would keep the road clean. Though in a country where there was no king anymore and someone offered two hundred gold for Stiles, things were about to get messy. The wolf wasn't eager to play bodyguard to a whore, but if he indeed would get his own gold it might be worth it.

They tried not to stop too many times, Peter had the suspicion that Stiles was already being followed after all and the quickest they got to the Fox Gate the better. Maybe it were the nerves or the nights they barely stopped, but Stiles was getting worse.

Their fire had already turned to smoke, Stiles went to sleep a few hours ago, yet Peter could still feel him being awake. The fox was laying on the other side of the fire, with his back to him.

"Go to sleep Stiles. We'll conquer some difficult paths tomorrow." Peter muttered, looking up at the sky. The early spring sky was glowing blue, with clouds towering over the travelers like castles, barely showing the stars. A storm was coming.

"A storm is coming." Peter heard his thoughts echo next to him in the voice of a stranger. He felt his heart skip a beat, because he didn't hear Stiles move and yet he was kneeling next to him.

"Go to sleep, or don't whine to me all day that you're tired." Peter huffed, looking at the boy who was eying him with dark eyes. The wolf hoped it was just the trick of the night, because Stiles looked like a completely different person. His skin was paler than usual and his eyes... were not his. It was like someone was looking through Stiles' eyes straight into Peter's soul.

"You're not walking fire." the thing said and the wolf almost howled.

"And you're not a fox." he said.

"I am." the boy said, his lips pulling into a dark smirk, leaning impossibly close. Peter refused to pull away. "Does it scare you?"

"No fox or trick can scare me." the wolf growled, aware of the magic foxes can pull. It was mostly tricks, but still annoying.

"But a kiss can." the fox laughed. "Strength and weakness is nothing to fear, but gentleness is. You gave in." Peter bared his teeth and grabbed Stiles' throat, squeezing it. The same moment the fox screamed.

"Wha- What, let me go!" he gasped, wincing. "What are you doing?!"

"I should kill you here and now." Peter hissed, squeezing as the boy grabbed his wrist. This was the second time he came close to killing him and he was about to do it this time. Stiles was trouble, big trouble and Peter hadn’t signed up for this. Not even for four hundred gold.

"Then do it!" Stiles screamed. "Kill me and get it over with!" he wheezed, choking as his air was running out. Peter frowned at him. Stiles' eyes changed again, the only one looking at him was the fox. And no one else.

"Don't tempt me or I'll do it." Peter growled.

"Just bring my heart to my father to let him mourn me in peace. Let him know I failed, alright? Give this one thing to me, Peter... I have no one else to do this for me..." Stiles croaked, his face going blue and he was about to lose. Peter was looking at him hard, contemplating. No gold was worth as much as this trouble.

"Let the fox go." Peter heard a voice behind him and felt the tip of an arrow touch his head. He didn't need to turn to know they were trapped. Hunters got them while Peter was too occupied with Stiles. Just exactly how many mistakes would he make around this boy?

"Why?" Peter asked, watching Stiles' terrified eyes turn upward and look behind him, probably at the hunter.

"He’s worth more alive." a different voice said and Peter shivered. He knew that voice. He knew it from his nightmares... the arrow dug into his head, signing that it will go out if he wouldn't hurry up. So Peter slowly pried his fingers off Stiles' throat.

Stiles hacked and coughed as two men grabbed him. They were all human, reeking of that stench only humans had. Peter caught himself growling as he watched Stiles being taken away. He was too weak to fight them and Peter once again wondered why he didn't shift. Stiles would have been quicker and stronger if he would shift into a fox, but he never did.

"Since when does the Court hire human hunters to do their dirty work?" Peter asked, and slowly got on his feet to turn to face their captures. "Gerard." he nodded at the man.

Gerard was an old man. An old and sick human. In many aspects. Humans were already so fragile and weak and when they got sick, it was just pathetic. But Gerard took it a step further, wanting a cure for something that had none. Rumour had it he made a pact with demons... but Peter doubted that. Demons won’t pact with worms. The reason, though, for his hatred for Gerard wasn't exactly because he was human and sick and twisted, hell Peter himself was all those things... But Gerard was the head of the Argents. The Argents who helped give him the reputation that he walked fire. And yet that thing in Stiles knew he was far from any of that...

"Since the coin is good, Hale." Gerard said, with a small smirk. "But don't act like you aren't doing it for the same reasons." he smiled too sweetly for Peter's taste. The wolf quickly looked around. They were surrounded and most of the humans had crossbows and knives. If he fled he most definitely couldn’t escape together with Stiles or without injuries. "And together with your head it may be even more." the old man added almost drooling.

"Now, I'm not wanted in the Kingdom." Peter tilted his head to the side.

"Not in the Kingdom of Wolves." Gerard said and the wolf couldn't help his scoff.

"You'd drag me all the way back to the Human Empire?"

"Just your head and claws." Gerard grinned. "But maybe your claws would do just fine." He added and Peter had enough. He roared, shifting as he jumped at the old hunter. He felt an arrow penetrate his side and another one his shoulder. He fell on the ground, his vision going red as he kept his eyes on Gerard.

"That's enough." a hunter standing close to them started, stepping to Peter. He pointed his crossbow at the wolf and Peter knew better than to charge again.

"Christopher, I thought we agreed on some rules." Gerard started, eying the man who stopped him. Peter could smell the sour scent of tension in the air. These two men rarely hunted together and 'Christopher' had something else in his scent. He wasn't like the others. But what did Peter care when he was bleeding from wolfsbane coated arrows?

"We agreed to do this my way." Chris Argent stated, walking to Peter. The wolf growled at him.

"But it didn't include any of the Hale wolves. Go and tend to the fox, I'll handle this one." Gerard ordered and Peter squirmed once again to try and move, but his limbs were numb from wolfsbane. Before they dragged him away, he was trying to look for Stiles, track his scent, but the air was full with the smell of his own blood and the greed of the hunters.

Stiles couldn't believe it. He was trapped and put in a cage. He heard the hunters talk about how a weakling like this could cost that much and if they had mistaken him with someone. But the poster had Stiles' exact face aside from the smirk. Right now he resembled a trapped cat more than any murderer the Royal Court wanted.

"Let me go or I'll kill every single one of you!" Stiles shouted, receiving amused laughter in exchange.

"I don't have to be a wolf to know that was a lie." a man snorted, hitting the bars. The fox winced at the metallic sound, cupping his ears. "I don't know what you did to the wolves that they want you so much, but I doubt you can do anything other than suck hard, royal whore."

Stiles' growl died in their laughter and he truly considered just letting go and break out.

"Gentlemen, we're far from home, but that doesn't mean we should lose our humanity." a voice came and they went into a guilty silence. No one said a word as Chris walked to the cage. "Go and help Gerard with the Omega. It's an unpredictable one, we need all the back up." the men didn't question his orders, seemingly trusting Chris with their lives.

Stiles was eying the hunter who waited until the guards cleared and only then turned to him. He was an experienced hunter with deep lines on his face, but with clear eyes. Stiles felt strangely relieved in his presence, partly because he knew him.

"You kids have done it this time." Chris started when they were alone. "I told you to wait." he sighed, rubbing his neck. Stiles felt his cheeks flare up from anger.

"For how long? Until the kingdom collapses, until the refugees fill all of the Human Empire and the Fox Lands?" Stiles hissed, grabbing the bars again. "Until more people die?" he added quietly, watching the hunter's face scrunch up in pain.

"Until we have figured out something, Stiles." Chris said. "Now look at the mess. Look at this, how is this any better? The court will tear itself apart, because there's no legal heir, Stiles, this country is as good as dead." His voice was loud and shivering from emotions Stiles had no right to hear. He opened his mouth, but no words came. He just couldn't say anything anymore. "But..." Chris started. "In your place, I'd probably had done the same. For Allison." he added quietly.

"I'm sorry." the fox muttered, looking down. "It's just..." he started, but Argent hushed him.

"Nothing you say would undo this. Let's work with what we have." he sighed. "You're heading to the Fox Gate?"

"Yes, Scott and the others are waiting for me there." Stiles nodded. "I'll be safe with them."

"I have a hard time believing. With what you have in you." Chris commented and Stiles went still. "He was about to get lose again--"

"I can handle it!" Stiles snapped, louder than necessary. "I can- I can handle it, Argent." he added with a steadier voice. He just received a glare from the hunter. "Just... get me out, I'll take Peter and escape."

And that caught Chris off guard. He blinked at Stiles as if he had trouble understanding him. And he did.

"That wolf is a Hale. The one who 'walks fire', Stiles. He wanted to strangle you when we arrived." he said. "He's Peter Hale, he's wanted for his acts in the Human Empire."

"I'm aware." Stiles stuttered, thinking back on how Peter was handling him. But he also remembered how Peter kissed him and what he felt then. "I can't survive on my own, I- I can't."

"You should have let Derek or Scott wait for you, you stupid fox."

"I didn't want to involve more people."

"And now you involved a murderer." Chris sighed, giving up on talking sense into the boy. "I can't guarantee the safety of Peter, but I can get you out."

"Just... just let me go and I'll handle it." Stiles closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't handle this at all. Chris just looked at him almost with pity and Stiles had the urge to yell at him to stop. He didn't need pity. He needed... he had no idea. All he knew was he had to get back to Scott so this nightmare could end. And he had to take Peter with him. Or at least out of this mess.

"If I could I'd take you to the Gate, but I now have to cover your back here." the hunter said, moving to open the cage. Stiles slipped out quickly, shivering. "You should run, go and never look back."

"I- I won't leave Peter behind." Stiles shook his head and he saw Chris wanting to strangle him badly.

"I'll see what I can do. Go and hide. But if they catch you I won't be able to help you again." the man said. Then, after a moment of pause he added: “Tell Scott… Tell him I’ll be here if he needs me. That the Human Empire will stand by him.” Stiles hesitated for a moment, unsure what to say or do, but the hunter just motioned him to go. He turned and disappeared into the bushes. He saw where they’d taken Peter and he caught his scent too.

Foxes were usually stealthy and easy to disappear thanks to their nature and fox magic, Stiles was the same. He followed Peter's scent, wondering why he won't just leave him as Chris advised. It wasn't like he owed Peter anything or the wolf ever promised him more than death threats. But Stiles had a nagging feeling about the wolf, and he knew he won't be able to look into the mirror if he'd leave him at the whim of hunters. Murderer or not.

Finding Peter was easy, but when Stiles saw him, he wasn't sure if he could help him. The wolf was trapped in a cage, much like Stiles'. A kind of cage humans used to ship wolf and fox slaves to the Empire, its bars strengthened with wolfsbane. Peter had no chance to break free from it, even if he was shifted. And the cage was surrounded by lodges of wood, already smoking. Stiles felt his stomach sink when he realized that these hunters were about to burn Peter alive.

"Let's see if they would still remember you as the one who walks fire after this." the oldest hunter grimaced. Stiles felt himself go pale. The man reminded him too much of the king. The same kind of sickness and greed emitted from the human. He tried not to think about it too much and concentrate on a plan to get Peter out of the cage. Stiles couldn't see the wolf's face as he was laying with his back to him. All the hunters were standing around, watching as the flames got bigger.

"Watch it all, kids. This is how legends die and heroes are born." The old hunter laughed and Stiles almost got sick. Peter was dying there and he had not made a move or screamed. He was lying completely still. Maybe he was already dead.

And that thought actually hurt Stiles. He felt it. Somewhere where his heart was, that it broke in two.

"No..." the fox muttered, desperately trying to figure out how to save Peter. And then a hunter came running.

"The fox escaped." the young man rasped. "It took Chris, there was blood everywhere, oh god..." he wheezed. Stiles' eyes widened, wondering if this was Chris' attempt for him. And it was working. The old hunter basically roared in rage sending all the people to search for their lost treasure. There was only one hunter left to watch the fire and collect what would remain from Peter's body. And Stiles knew this was his chance.

Foxes were not strong creatures, but they had the advantage of surprise. And a big rock could also help. Stiles got the rock in his hand, and charged at the hunter when he turned away. It also helped that the storm that was towering over them started acting up with a strong wind, Stiles’ steps died in the noises of the forest and he could knock the hunter out in one swift hit.

“Peter!” he called for the wolf, running to the cage. The flames had gotten bigger in the wind and Stiles could smell burned skin. “Peter!” he shouted once again as he ran to the cage which was surrounded by fire, but still intact. The fire was designed so the flames would only reach the inside of the cage at the very last moment when it was clear there was no way back. Gerard wanted to scare the wolf before burning him and Stiles never detested anyone more in his life. He called the wolf, but Peter didn’t move. But he was alive, Stiles could hear the strange rhythm of his heartbeat. Yet, he wasn’t moving.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Stiles grabbed the same rock he had used to hit the hunter and charged at the cage. He collected all his strength and courage to dip into the flames and break the lock. He felt his skin bristle in the heat and gave a pained yell, but he still made a grab for Peter. The wolf wasn’t moving, yet his eyes were open.

“Peter, please, snap out of it!” Stiles yelled desperately, grabbing the wolf and dragging him out of the cage, through the fire. The smell was nauseating and Stiles was so afraid they would both burn to death if he wouldn’t hurry. His only luck was the rain that started pouring down on them in the next moment, extinguishing most of the flames so the fox could drag Peter out of the cage without more burns. “Peter, wake up, wake up! What’s wrong with you?!” Stiles called him, shaking his shoulder, but it was like Peter was petrified by some kind of spell. He must have been in pain because of the burns on his back, but he wasn’t making any sound. Stiles was getting more worried by the second, but he had no time to stick around and try to snap Peter out of it. He once again took all he’s got and threw one of Peter’s arms over his shoulder to drag him away from the scene. He needed a hiding spot fast and preferably near. Stiles had confidence in his hiding skill, especially with the storm that was going on.

Peter was heavy and Stiles couldn’t go as fast as he preferred. His legs were shaking under the dead weight of the wolf as he was carrying him. At one point, Stiles’ body gave out too, dropping on his knees. He was wet and cold, with an almost dead wolf on his back, trying to hide from hunters who wanted their heads. If Stiles would have left Peter there and fled, he could escape quickly during the storm, without any trace even. He would reach the Fox Gate in a few days and get home, and they wouldn’t have to pay anyone. And yet, he couldn’t let go of Peter.

“Shit…” Stiles panted, looking around if he can somehow hide until the hunters cleared out and give Peter enough time to heal. He was deep in the forest, far away from any path or road. It was dark and scary and smelled like rain and thunder, which was good. Because it meant that the hunters would most probably lose track of them soon. Stiles found a place that could serve as a hiding spot for the rest of the night, though he had no idea how they will go on after the day comes and the storm clears.

Stiles made sure that they were deeply hidden under the huge leaves of the bushes. It was perfect. But not for long. And they were not protected from the rain, and only partly from the wind.

“Oh, to the Mother…” Stiles shivered, pulling Peter’s upper body on his lap to at least try and keep him warm. He gently ran his fingers down his back, feeling the blistered skin. It wasn’t healing. Stiles’ blisters were already starting to fade, but Peter’s remained. It really was like he was dead… with a heartbeat. “Peter? Peter what’s wrong, what happened? Did they hurt you?” Stiles asked, shaking the wolf again and Peter was still not reacting. His wounds from the arrows were already healing, which means the wolfsbane was clearing out of his body, but the blisters remained. Stiles looked down at his face. “Was it the fire?” he asked quietly.

The storm was loud around them, shaking the leaves of trees and bushes, pouring rain and cold down, and even in this noise, Stiles could hear Peter’s heart skip a beat. He could feel it in his own chest too. So Peter could hear him. Which was good. It gave Stiles hope that Peter could not just hear, but listen to him too. He cradled the wolf’s head to his chest, stroking his wet hair and down his injured back.

“I’m sorry, alright? It was all my fault, I should’ve… I should have waited. For a better plan. For something… until Scott was strong enough. Until we had a better plan…” Stiles rambled, rocking his body a little, along with Peter. “And you… you shouldn’t have listened to me, I talk shit all the time Peter, why did you agree to bring me back? What if there isn’t any gold, huh? What would you do to me then? Kill me? And that would help you? That would help anyone? I don’t think it’d undo all this.” He spoke, barely aware of what he was saying. He just wanted Peter to hear him and to know that Stiles was there. He started to shiver from the cold, so he held Peter tighter to him. “Listen, Peter… I can’t take you with me like this. So please get better, please. I have to go, Peter, I don’t have time, I have to go I can’t stay too long. I won’t be able to control this thing anymore. If I don’t get back home I’ll… I’ll hurt more people.” Stiles swallowed and the wolf in his arms still didn’t react. “Peter, please, just… please get better.”

Stiles had no idea if Peter will get better or if he can hear him anymore. For some reason he wasn’t healing and he was still in some kind of shock.

“I’ll have to go on alone, if you keep this up.” The fox muttered quietly. The storm was starting to calm down, leaving them cold and wet and hopeless, but at least their scent wasn’t easy to spot in the woods like this. “I’ll have to go, Peter. I can’t stay. Please…” Stiles begged. He was trying to convince himself too, that he did everything he could for Peter, but if he can’t bring him, he had to leave him. There was no other way. He looked down at the wolf, reaching out to touch his cheek and caress him. He was cold to the touch and his eyes were wide, as if seeing something horrible.

Peter Hale was a wolf who walked fire, Stiles heard the stories in the Court. He heard of a wolf who walked through fire and killed the hunters who dared to hurt his pack. But even before that, Stiles heard a different story. A story about a pack near the border of the Human Empire, attacked by human hunters; the story of a pack burning alive, the story of the revenge of a mad wolf who went as far as killing the last of his pack to take on the powers of an Alpha wolf and massacre all the hunters in the area. A story of an insane Alpha who had never took on a pack and fallen to become an Omega. The story of Peter Hale and not the story of the Wolf who walked fire.

“You don’t really walk fire, do you…? You’re terrified of it.” Stiles whispered to Peter. The wolf’s eyes slowly closed then and the boy felt his throat tighten. Maybe he was giving up? Stiles was about to call the wolf again, when he felt claws scrape his back lightly and trembling. It was Peter.

“Don’t… you dare… leave me…” the wolf hissed, slowly and dragged out. His breathing was heavy and struggling as if he was drowning of something. Stiles gasped as he was watching the other, seeing how he was struggling with his breathing and started to shiver more. “Don’t you dare…” Peter groaned, opening his eyes, glowing threateningly at Stiles.

“I won’t! I won’t!” Stiles answered immediately, holding Peter tighter. The wolf grabbed him with two clawed hands, holding onto him for dear life. It was like he was descending from the deep waves of an ocean, breathing heavily to gulp more and more air. Stiles realized that he was slowly coming out of his shock, Peter was getting better. So he held him as tight as he could, making sure that Peter knew he was there. “I’ll be here Peter, alright? I’ll be here, it’s gonna be fine now, right?” Stiles muttered, stroking Peter’s hair as he was trying to get himself together. He still wasn’t healing, but at least he was conscious and aware. “But we have to go, we have to go now.” He said and Peter nodded.

Peter’s limbs were still stiff, but at least he could walk a little. He was leaning heavily on Stiles as they were walking through the woods. Neither of them said anything, Stiles didn’t even ramble, he was too scared for that. He had no idea where they were or where they were headed and Peter was too out of it to pay attention. It was hard, because Stiles felt like he was getting weaker and hungry, and he figured they’d need some water soon, especially Peter. But he didn’t dare to stop, he kept hearing the hunters behind their backs, even when he turned there was nothing there and he didn’t catch any of their scents. Though one time when he heard a noise and looked, there was someone there.

"Are you lost?" the man asked and Stiles felt his limbs go weak. He hadn’t heard him coming, nor had the guy any kind of scent to him. And that was alarming, not even the hunters could hide their scent so well. He squinted his eyes in the early morning sunrise to see more of the man.

"I..." Stiles started, but then his knees went out, dropping on the floor he let go of Peter too. The wolf fell on the ground with a pained grunt, but he turned his head to look at the man greeting them. Judging by his glare, he didn't trust him either.

"Whoa, easy there, you look hurt." the man gasped, putting down the wood he’d collected and hurried over.

"No, get away!" Stiles heard his low, raspy voice yell at the stranger.

"I just want to help." the man stopped, holding up his hands. Stiles swallowed, trying to tell if he was saying the truth. The guy was young and his eyes were so green Stiles almost thought he had some kind of jewels instead of eyes. He had no scent to him, other than the woods around them, but Stiles felt strangely drawn to him, as one would be drawn to the fire on a cold, windy day. "My name is Jordan. Jordan Parrish." he said suddenly.

"Stiles..." the fox nodded, and looked at Peter who tried to push himself up from the ground. "And he's... he's Peter." he said, reaching out to pat the wolf in an attempt to calm him.

"We have to go." Peter growled, looking at Stiles. He seemingly didn't trust Jordan at all and Stiles didn't blame him.

"You need to rest, Peter, and we need some water..." Stiles tried, even if he wasn't convinced by this stranger either. But they were in no position to refuse.

Jordan then came closer, slowly and carefully.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you. Your mate is right, you don't look good. Neither of you." he looked at Stiles. "Let me help you."

Stiles felt his throat tighten. He wondered if they should take this risk, but as he looked at Peter who was in pain and had trouble with pushing himself up from the ground, he knew they had so little choice.

"Please..." the fox nodded then, turning to Jordan. He heard Peter growl at him, but he ignored it. They either die on the road or by the hand of some stranger, what difference would it make? Like this at least they had the chance for food and temporary rest.

Jordan smiled at them reassuringly and stepped to them. He helped to carry Peter, because Stiles knew the wolf wouldn't let anyone else touch him, but he couldn't carry him alone. They reached a clearance surrounded by tall trees, where Jordan was camping. Stiles immediately smelled food and his stomach growled loudly for it.

"Were you attacked?" Jordan asked as he helped Peter sit near the fireplace.

"What else does it look like exactly?" Peter snarked weakly and that made Stiles sure that he will get better. Jordan just shrugged and dropped the subject for both of their relief.

Stiles barely believed that they had this luck. Jordan was a kind of traveling merchant, crossing the country for the Human Empire. He said that he was a human, but he didn't smell like one. Stiles had no idea how he smelled and seemingly Peter was unsure too. But he gave them food and shelter for the rest of the day and a night and he also had aid for the burn on Peter's back. Stiles could almost cry that it was Jordan of all the people who could have found them. Otherwise... well, he told Peter he would have left him, but would he really? Stiles was glad he didn't have to answer that question now.

For the night Jordan offered them a tent of their own, saying that mates need to spend all their time together and Stiles tried to correct him that it wasn't like that, but Jordan didn't seem to get it. And the fox had no energy to argue. Peter was strangely quiet and refused to even look at Stiles all this time.

After dinner Jordan ushered them to the bigger tent. A huge futon was waiting for them there and Stiles almost turned to leave, saying he'd rather sleep in the smaller tent with Jordan or somewhere outside.

"Cozy." Peter muttered dryly, standing by the tent, looking inside.

"You deserve to have a comfortable place for the night. You have a long road ahead of you." Jordan smiled. "I'll be around if you need anything." he added and headed to his own tent. Stiles was looking after him, suddenly nervous.

"If you... if you want to sleep alone I can just..." he motioned toward the clearance. Peter just shook his head.

"And listen to your whining all day tomorrow? Not a chance." the wolf said, holding open the tent for Stiles. "Get in." Stiles licked his lips and ducked inside, crawling over to the futon. Then he turned to ask if Peter would get in too, but the wolf followed him already. Stiles was suddenly aware how this supposedly big tent was small and too warm for him.

"How did you escape?" Peter asked suddenly, sitting down. Stiles tilted his head to look into his face.

"A hunter helped... Chris Argent, he, uh, he's a part of Scott's pack. I mean, not really, but... yes. So he helped." Peter nodded slowly, eying something on the wall of the tent before turning his eyes at Stiles. The fox felt a rush of heat in his cheeks.

"Why didn't you run?" Peter asked quietly.

"I did. Fast." Stiles shrugged, wincing at the unimpressed wolf's glare. "You'd have run?" he asked then.

"Yes." Peter answered without hesitation. But the skip in his heartbeat betrayed him. Stiles licked his lips again, looking away. He didn't want to answer or talk about this. He was already confused about a bunch of things.

"Take it as a kind of payment then." Stiles shrugged then fumbled with the covers. He jumped when he felt Peter's fingers against his cheek. They were hot against his skin. Stiles parted his lips, slowly turning his head toward the other. At the same time Peter cupped his cheek and pulled him closer. “Peter…?” Stiles asked a little unsure.

“Shh.” The wolf hushed him gently as he pulled him impossibly close. Stiles knew what he wanted and when their lips met he didn’t pull away. He should have, but he didn’t. Peter kissed him gently and hesitant, just like the first time. And Stiles kissed back, his eyes falling shut. He leaned into Peter, his arms reaching out for him to feel his strong frame. To feel that he was alive and well and still with him. He just realized how glad he was for that.

“Ah..!” Stiles gasped when he was suddenly pushed down on the futon, with Peter hovering over him. He shivered from something that was too obvious for both of them, yet Stiles still felt nervous about it. Peter’s hand slid down his neck, stroking the skin there a little, almost fondly, when he moved lower to feel Stiles’ chest through his shirt. His eyes were intense on Stiles’ face, sharp and too blue, yet they weren’t cold. And that made Stiles melt. His breathing was picking up the more Peter touched him and the closer he pressed, his hand returned to Stiles’ face.

“Who are you, little fox? And what have you done?” Peter asked quietly, his thumb stroking Stiles’ cheek absently. The boy took in a breath to answer, but no words left his throat. It was too tight for that. Stiles felt his body go numb, his thoughts jumbled; all that had happened ever since he left the Palace was catching up to him. He was tired, so tired and he was so scared.

“I killed the king.” Stiles whispered, looking into Peter’s eyes. The wolf’s brows furrowed, but he said nothing. “I’m Stiles Stilinski. A fox from the Fox Lands. I belong to the McCall pack. I came here to kill the king.”

Stiles remembered it too vividly, even if he wasn’t supposed to. He saw how his clawed hands had reached down and crushed the throat of that perverted, disgusting bastard and he’d enjoyed it. Stiles heard himself laugh and being happy, knowing that the warm blood on his hands meant the end of an era and the beginning of a new. He was genuinely happy for the death of someone.

“He deserved it.” Peter muttered quietly, his voice was rumbling through his chest against Stiles’. “He deserved what was coming for him, Stiles.” The fox blinked, realizing his eyes were full of tears. “He was ruthless and stupid, if it weren’t you someone else would have done the same.”

The fox stared at Peter with wide eyes, tears rolling down his temples. He barely realized how badly he wanted someone to tell this to him. To justify what he had done. That it was something the king deserved and what Stiles had done wasn’t stupid or meaningless.

“And it wasn’t entirely you, who did it.” Peter added, wiping Stiles’ eyes with his thumb. “There’s something else, isn’t it? Somebody else.” he said quietly.

“Yes.” Stiles nodded, sniffing.

“A dark fox.”

“How do you know?” the boy gasped. Peter just smirked a little.

“The tattoo at first. And I had also met him before the hunters came. I heard about dark foxes. They don’t just appear, but they summon them.” the wolf spoke softly. “They need a strong goal to call for them and a capable host.” Stiles squirmed a little. He knew it, he knew it too well. It haunted him ever since they did the ritual and he’d woken up with darkness in the back of his mind, whispering to him about the most hideous things. “It’s almost like being insane a little.” He heard Peter’s voice and turned his head toward him again.

“And I’m losing.” Stiles said. “He’s stronger the more he’s around. Sometimes I wake up from a dream which wasn’t a dream at all. One day, I won’t be able to control him. I need to get back home before that happens.”

Peter didn’t answer, he looked at Stiles still with that expression that made the boy want to hide against his chest.

“How did you know… that I- I’m not…” Stiles stuttered suddenly, but stopped himself, because talking was too demanding at this point. Yet he wanted to hear Peter’s voice.

“That you’re not a whore?” Peter asked, his voice so soft that it felt like a warm blanket over Stiles. “No whore kisses. Especially not like that.” he said and Stiles bit his lower lip. “Are you a virgin, Stiles?” the wolf asked and Stiles was aware that it was the first time he called him by his name.

“I’m… yes.” he muttered quietly, looking up at Peter. “I mean… I’ve never… so like that, but… he… shit, sorry I’m just… oh to the Mother.” he cursed, turning his head away, his cheeks were bright red and his eyes still full of tears. He angrily wiped them away, but being reminded of what he was going through in the Court wasn’t helping any of that. Then Stiles felt Peter pressing his lips against his cheek, seeking his mouth. And Stiles gave it to him. No one ever kissed him while he was a royal mate. They just touched him and wanted to be touched. But kisses, those were never happening. When Peter pulled away, Stiles smiled at him. His heart was about to burst out of his chest, presenting itself to Peter. The wolf eyed him with the softest expression Stiles ever saw on him, and it was a little sad. Because when could have been the last time Peter ever looked at someone like that?

“I’ll take you home, silly fox.” Peter said at last, leaning down for another kiss. As if sealing some kind of promise. Stiles gave a small sound deep in his throat, kissing back and sliding his arm around Peter’s neck.

“Please.” he whispered, sniffing, though he jumped when he felt Peter’s wandering hand slide under his shirt. His fingers were hot and rough, not like the king’s. And that thought was like a punch in the gut. “Wait, Peter…” Stiles squirmed a little. “I-I don’t think I can- I mean I-“

“You don’t want to?” the wolf asked a little out of breath, looking into Stiles’ face. The fox sighed, looking back at him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, but he just couldn’t help thinking about the last time someone was trying to get between his legs. Which was the king. In his last minutes.

“I need to… sort some things out first.” Stiles whispered, his heart beating a nervous rhythm. In the Palace, the ‘whore’ couldn’t say no. Stiles wasn’t overly popular, due to his scrawny body and loud mouth, but he had his share of abuse. But Peter’s hand didn’t go further, he pulled back a little.

“I could make you see the stars, Stiles.” Peter teased and damn, Stiles was tempted. But he didn’t feel like it would be right, not now.

“I’ll take you up on that offer then… later.” He chuckled a little relieved and leaned over to kiss Peter. “But you’re gonna stay tonight?”

“As if I’d let a sly fox alone for even a moment.” the wolf sighed, kissing back as Stiles laughed softly.

Peter didn't like to dwell too long in the world of dreams. His sleep was never peaceful enough and if he had to choose, he rather went and faced the horrors the day presented him. He woke up that morning, smelling the woods, early morning and Stiles. He felt something he hadn't in a long time. He was content. Peter nuzzled into the hair of the fox, smelling him. He didn't smell like home. Nothing smelled like home, but Peter caught himself thinking he could build a home which had a scent like Stiles. He shifted a little to try and move without waking the boy, already prepared for the pain in his limbs and from his burns. But none of that came. Peter frowned and reached under his shirt to feel the burn he could reach. The skin was still scarred, but there were no blisters. Jordan's aid really helped.

The wolf sighed as he was thinking about the other day. About the hunters, Gerard, the fire. He remembered everything like it was a dream. A nightmare he could only watch, but couldn’t change. He felt the utter terror in his guts and it was so mind numbing he couldn't even move. And then Stiles appeared out of nowhere and dragged his pathetic ass out of the fire. Peter could remember his words, his worried scent, his panic. He said he would leave Peter, but he hadn’t. No wonder Jordan kept calling them mates, Peter thought amused.

"You're smiling..." Stiles muttered next to him, looking at him with half closed eyes.

"You have an exceptionally stupid sleeping face." Peter shrugged.

"And you snore like a boar." Stiles retorted back, yawning. Peter chuckled a little, leaning down to kiss his forehead fondly. He did not fall for a fox... but at the same time, he probably had.

"Get ready, I don't want to waste more time. It's risky as it is." Peter told him quietly.

"Mmmnn..." Stiles groaned, stretching. "I wouldn't mind staying in this moment my whole life. Forever." he mused quietly, looking around the tent. Peter snorted.

"Well, in that case we'd never become real mates would we?" he remarked.

"W-what?" Stiles blinked as Peter moved from next to him. "What- what did you say? Peter? Peter!" he called, but the wolf was already out of the tent.

After Stiles was over his shock he got himself together and followed the wolf.

Jordan was already up, packing food and water in a small bag. Apparently, it was for Stiles and Peter for the road. He said that it might last for two days if they can proportion well, and then it would take two days until the border. Jordan also told them that the villages near the border are friendly to travelers and in exchange for some work they won't have to starve for the rest of the way. He said he would bring them there, but he had people waiting for him in the Human Empire and he also said there may be more wolves out there who need aid.

"He definitely wasn't human." Stiles mused as he walked in the forest with Peter. "What do you think he was?" he asked, looking at the other. The wolf sighed, smiling little.

"I'm not sure. But not many humans can make a fire from wet wood." he remarked quietly. Stiles just frowned at him, confused. Peter didn't expect him to know anyway. Because apparently there were such old creatures walking amongst them who have already forgotten who they really are. "I'm just glad he didn't want to kill and eat us."

Their journey lead them down a road where mountains turned into hills and soon into huge grassy fields which were more common on the Fox Lands. Stiles could barely contain his excitement and Peter only just realized how homesick the little fox was. He was talking about the eternal grass fields which smell like adventure and home, of the burrows that foxes lived in, of the autumn sky which was bluer than anywhere else. And Peter caught himself imagining a home like that, a home which smelled of grass and earth and Stiles with the widest sky to cover them. The thought almost made him reach for the fox's hand, but he never did.

Their supplies really ran out at the end of the third day, but it was the same time they spotted a village nearby. Though both of them were a bit hesitant in approaching it.

"Jordan said they'd give us food for some work." Stiles tried. He wasn't sure if he could hold on for two more days, starving. He still remembered how it didn't work out before.

"Let's hope he was right. I'm not up to you whining about your empty stomach." Peter nodded, making his way toward the village. They weren't following a path so they had to stumble upon molehills and high grass to reach the first house.

"Hello?" Stiles called, but no one answered. He looked at Peter for a second before he walked over to the house. "Anyone home?" the fox tried again.

Peter was looking around too, checking if the village was abandoned. He had seen many empty villages before, but this was not one of those. Yet as Stiles called for people, no one answered.

"I think we should leave." Peter suggested quietly, keeping a sharp gaze at the other houses. The smell of roast and wet wood was so significant it blocked out all the other smells. It was too strong to not be suspicious. "Stiles, come here." he called for the fox a bit louder. Stiles turned toward him with the same worried look on his face and nodded. Peter held out his hand for him and Stiles took it without hesitation. The wolf squeezed Stiles' fingers and turned to go back into the woods the same way they had come.

"Hold your horses." someone called behind them and at the same time an arrow flew past them. Stiles gasped, grabbing onto Peter's hand tighter. He knew that voice, he knew it too well. He was about to bolt, but more wolf soldiers appeared from the woods, growling and snapping their teeth at them, wearing armor that was too familiar to Stiles. They were surrounded by none other than the Royal Pack. Stiles felt his insides boil instead of the sheer terror he actually felt. He could feel the darkness inside him more than ever. Peter growled next to him turning toward the soldier who approached them. Only it wasn't a soldier, but the royal guard captain himself, the lapdog of the Head of Ministers.

"Deucalion." Stiles muttered, swallowing.

"Nice to meet you again, fox." the wolf smiled almost warmly. "I was hoping I could be the one bringing you to the Head of Ministers and not some human hunter scum."

"No- no you can't possibly want this!" Stiles shook his head. "You were not like the others, you- you were kind!" he said. "You said you'd never hurt me!"

"Stiles, I actually still want the best for you. And the best would be if you'd come with me, back to the Palace." Deucalion said walking closer and Peter pulled Stiles behind him. For some reason this whole exchange made him nervous in a different way. So Deucalion and Stiles knew each other from the Palace?

"Now, I believe it's quite clear he wasn't planning on going back." Peter growled.

"Is that so?" Deucalion started, eying Peter, baring his teeth. "And what do you care, Hale? Is it the money? I'll give you four hundred gold right now if you release him to us." the guard captain said, leaving both of them baffled.

"You're not doing this for the coin?" Stiles asked in a hollow voice from behind Peter.

"The coin doesn't matter." Deucalion said. "All that matters is that with your help we could renew this country, Stiles. You could help in the battle, we could collect all the big packs under the new king's command."

"You want the dark fox." Peter summed up, holding Stiles' hand tighter. "You want a weapon, my friend." he snorted and Deucalion looked at him with a small smile. With a smile that pitied Peter, that told him he wouldn’t possibly understand, but oh he did. He understood Deucalion too well.

"I want a chance to give this country what it deserves. I want peace and a nation that doesn't have to eat its own flesh and suffer under an incompetent king. But I need a strong hand for that." the captain said. "Isn't this what you wanted, Stiles?"

"I..." Stiles started, looking at Peter for a second.

"It's thanks to you that we can start over, Stiles.” Deucalion said. “And I won't give up this chance, because of your hesitation." he sighed, reaching for his sword and at the same time Peter bared his teeth. "With your power the nation can be united."

"Wait..." Stiles started, stepping from behind Peter. "You're right, I'll go with you."

"Stiles." the wolf warned, yanking the fox's hand.

"Can you see any other option, Peter?!" the boy snapped turning toward him. "I tried and I lost."

"You surely can't be serious about giving yourself up for this nonsense." Peter hissed, his ears ringing.

"It's what I was doing all this time anyway!" Stiles said, his voice breaking. His eyes gazed deeply into Peter's and the wolf knew Stiles wanted him to understand. But he won’t and never will.

"Shall we get going then?" Deucalion interrupted. "We're far from the capital, it will take a while until we get back. And I can assure you, your feet won't touch the ground, Stiles. I'll bring you back in my own carriage." he said, holding his hand for the fox.

"But then you’d send him to massacre the wolves who go against you. Such a hero you are." Peter snorted, batting that hand away.

"C-can I have one more request?" Stiles asked before Deucalion could reply.

"Anything you want." the guard captain nodded, eying Peter with a less amused expression.

"Let Peter go." the fox said and his words felt to Peter like he was hit in the head. Deucalion agreed after a moment of hesitation. Yet, Peter wasn't so keen on letting Stiles go.

"Stiles, if you don't snap out of this, I'll have to fight too many people to drag you away." Peter whispered when Stiles turned to him. The fox just shook his head.

"You can go to the Fox Gate... They will be waiting for me there. Tell Scott… tell him all, alright? About everything." Stiles said. "He won't understand, but that's fine-"

"It's not fine!" Peter growled. "I dragged your sorry ass all this way just so you can chicken out?!"

Stiles didn't answer, just sighed. Then he leaned closer, pressing his lips against Peter. He was shaking faintly and the wolf spotted a kind of tension in him. He kissed back hesitantly. Then Stiles tilted his head, kissing his cheek, then into his ear.

"Run. Fast." he whispered barely audible and Peter felt his blood run cold. As Stiles pulled back he looked into his face and saw the other fox in his gaze. Peter was so shocked he didn't reach for Stiles' hand again when he let go. He watched as Stiles walked over to the guard captain. Deucalion reached for him, but the boy bat his hand away. Peter just realized that his heart was breaking. Stiles told him to run, but he couldn't do anything, just watch as the Pack took Stiles and left. They went toward the village center and disappeared behind the houses.

Suddenly there was such silence that it hurt Peter's ears. He usually liked silence, but the one that just welcomed him was empty and sticky and too deafening. He realized he was holding his breath and slowly let out a sigh. Stiles was gone and suddenly his troubles were taken away. No hunters were after him, no Royal Pack breathing down his neck, no stupid foxes making him deaf with their rambling and too loud heartbeat and no one to smell like home to make him wish for one. Peter was free again. And that thought made him turn and take a few steps. It was over. He didn't even have to get to the Fox Gate anymore just for a meaningless promise. Though he didn't remember freedom tasting so vile, only one other time… The time he turned on the remaining members of his pack. For revenge

Peter walked slowly, not exactly sure what he was doing or where he was going. It was like he had just jumped from a cliff and was falling. Falling and never being sure when he would hit the ground. And then an ear piercing roar echoed from the distance, from the village center. Peter stopped in his tracks, listening to roars, howls and screams from far away and knew Stiles was there somewhere.

The fox told him to run, but he didn't say where. So Peter turned back and ran as fast as he could.

But even Peter wasn't exactly prepared for the sight that welcomed him. The smell of blood was thick in the air, making him swallow from the metallic taste in his mouth. The Pack was out with crossbows, spears, swords and claws against a beast. That beast was a fox, shifted, with teeth and claws ready, and the whole scene seemed like those scrolls Peter saw once about the ancient battles. He read about dark foxes, he knew they were destructive, but watching one with his own eyes was a whole different matter. The fox looked like Stiles, but it wasn't him, it couldn't be. He tore wolves in half with his bare hands, bit through their chest with one bite, licking the blood from his lips. It was a sorry excuse of a fox, there was no other word for it, but monster. A fox without purpose and a love for chaos and destruction, a weapon that was not meant to be controlled. Yet, Peter could see why someone desired to take it. Stiles was powerful and ruthless and that gave him such strength that others would envy it. But Peter doubted it could serve as a tool to unite the wolf nation.

Deucalion was on the ground, barking for his soldiers to attack and even then only a few dared to approach the raging beast. Everything was covered in blood and body parts, weapons and armor. Soldiers afraid for their lives ran past Peter toward the woods, while the bolder ones tried to take on the fox. Stiles cut through them like they were air and Peter wondered if he really shouldn't have run. He wanted to. His instinct was screaming at him that he should run, hide and stay alive. But as he saw a spear dig through Stiles' torso a different instinct was acting up.

"You idiot." Peter growled to himself, not sure if he said it to Stiles or to himself. Stiles grabbed the spear that pierced him and tore it out of his body, breaking it in his clawed hand. The next moment more wolf warriors went against him together, feeling that they were stronger in numbers. They weren’t. Peter was frozen on the spot, unable to do much. But Stiles lashed out and took them on. He was covered in wounds and bruises, but he was healing extremely fast.

Soon there was no one who would attack Stiles, even Deucalion was standing around, leaning heavily on his sword. But Peter could see he wasn't going to give up, which was admirable in a way. And that was the point when Peter's feet finally moved. He started walking toward the fox who was eying the remaining Pack like his next playthings.

"Well, aren't you fascinating?" Peter whispered a little mesmerized when he got closer. "Look at you, you wonderful thing."

"Flattererrrr..." the dark fox snarled at him, though Peter didn't miss the amused spark in his eyes. His teeth were like small thorns in his mouth, giving him more of an eerie look. His face was long like a fox's, his ears black, bloody and flat against his skull. His clawed hands ready to crush the first thing that would come closer, blood dripping from his fingers. He was hunching over, ready to attack and Peter wondered if he would be a victim. "He told you to runnn." the dark fox snapped his teeth, he kept his huge and dark eyes on the wolf soldiers around him.

"I did." Peter nodded and those black eyes turned toward him. The fox laughed with tight teeth, salvia and blood dripping from his lips down his chin.

"Wolves arrrre remarkably stupid." he said, his hands flexing. Peter had no idea what he was doing. He had no knowledge on how to stop a monster like this. It wasn't to be stopped, it wasn't summoned for that. Yet, Peter had to wonder how Stiles stopped it the first time.

"Now, that's enough, Stiles." Peter called. "You made your point, now run with me." he said, holding out his hand for the boy in hope he wouldn't lose it.

"Wait!" Deucalion called. "If you leave now we'll follow you, we'll scorch the Fox Lands to find you." he said. "Join us and you could do good with your strength!"

The dark fox was looking at the Guard Captain with an amused expression.

"You want your country to flourish, but you are the stupidest wolf of all. You want good so much you turn evilll." he spoke in a dark voice, half growling. "You'd raid a peaceful land for your toyyys."

"Peaceful land?” the captain laughed with a bit of hysteria in his voice. “It was a _fox_ who assassinated the King, nothing is peaceful about that land." he hissed. He was playing all his thump cards, but none had any effect on the dark fox.

And then Deucalion ordered the remaining guards to charge at them and Stiles once again bared his fangs...

Peter had no idea how they escaped, all he knew was that he was running as fast as he could with Stiles in his arms. His lungs were on fire, his legs shaking from the weight of the fox and his nose filled with the smell of blood. None of the soldiers followed them, yet Peter didn't dare to stop. He ran as far as he could, until he felt like he couldn't anymore.

Peter stumbled to a halt near a small stream. They needed to get the blood off them and get out of their clothes, because the stench was starting to become unbearable. The wolf looked at Stiles in his arms, sighing. His features had returned to normal, but his eyes were closed so Peter had no idea who would be looking back at him once he woke.

Peter slowly laid the boy down on the grass and looked over him, reaching out to cup his messy cheek. It was warm, which was promising, though Peter was aware that there were many kinds of death. He was about to pull away and get something to clean Stiles but the next moment the fox slowly came to his senses. He opened his eyes, blinking around, his lips parted in a gasp.

"Stiles." Peter called him when Stiles scrambled to sit up.

"Wha..." with a choking sound, Stiles looked at the wolf as Peter put his hand on his shoulder. He looked at him with too wide eyes and his heart was about to burst from his chest. His heartbeat was loud, even for Peter.

"It's alright, Stiles, we're out." Peter assured him. The fox hicked a few times, staring at him as if he had trouble with breathing. Then as he could take more air he started to scream. It wasn't a roar or shout, but a heart wrenching scream. Peter reached out, collecting the shaking and screaming fox into his arms and pulled him tightly to his chest. "It's fine, it's fine, Stiles..."

Stiles was screaming and sobbing, his hands holding Peter’s shirt in a death grip. He was screaming so much that his voice broke and in the end he could only work up wet sobs into Peter's shoulder.

"He ma- made me watch, he made me watch...!" he cried, wheezing and getting into yet another fit.

"Well, if it would fit him." Peter sighed, stroking the boy's back. "It's over now, Stiles, calm down."

"I can still smell the blood I can still smell it, Peter!" the fox cried, pulling away and looking at his hands. They were still covered in blood just like them both. Stiles screamed again and pushed at Peter to move away. He got on his feet, stumbling toward the water. The wolf wanted to reach for him, but he also knew Stiles needed to cope somehow.

Stiles wrestled off his clothes, throwing them all around him, some into the water as he waded into the stream. He only stopped when he reached the deepest part, where the water was licking at his waist, and started scrubbing his bloody hands. Peter watched the now naked and crying fox, desperately washing himself in the cold waves of the stream. He let him do it. Stiles needed this. The wolf only decided to go to him when he saw Stiles' lips turn blue from the cold. He took off his shirt and pants to join the fox in the water.

"Let me." Peter muttered as he reached him and took Stiles’ ice cold hand to help him wash the blood off. He washed Stiles' hands, his arms, his bloody face and noted how all his injuries had already healed. The dark fox seemed to be invincible.

"H-how many?" Stiles asked, still wheezing.

"Most of them." Peter answered matter of factly.

"Deucalion?" came the next question and Peter felt a slight stab of jealousy in his chest again.

"He'll live. Though without eyes." he muttered and Stiles gagged. "You chose to do this, Stiles." Peter added quietly, holding the boy's hand and looking at him. Stiles grimaced, new tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I did. I wanted to show them..." he whispered.

"Then of course he made you watch." Peter said, pulling Stiles closer. "Choices like these have to be made, but we have to be prepared to live with the consequences."

Peter watched as Stiles bit his lower lip. He wanted to say something and the wolf had a good guess what it was. Stiles knew more about him than he let on after all, Peter realized. And he caught himself thinking that he wanted to tell Stiles all his secrets...

"I don't want to go home." Stiles said quietly, his fingers shaking in Peter's grip. "After this I can't."

"You want to run?" Peter asked just as quiet. Stiles didn't answer. "You want to run after what you told me about your home? Stiles, you want to go back so much you're dying." he said and the boy wanted to tear his hand out of his grip, but Peter didn't let him.

"What's wrong with running?!" he asked, dark brown eyes seeking Peter's gaze. "You're doing the same!"

It was a test, Peter realized. He wasn't looking away, but withstood Stiles' cruel gaze. The look that everyone in the kingdom gave him, the one they give to a lone Omega who killed his pack...

"I won't stop you, if you want to be like me." the wolf spoke. "I have no regrets, I chose this life, Stiles. You can do this too, you can be me. Join me and we can run, run as far as the sea, even further away and never look back. But never have any regrets." Peter was proud how his heartbeat remained steady. He practiced the art of lying for years now and it never came in handier. But even so, Stiles didn't seem to believe in him. "Come on, let's warm you up and we'll talk about where to go."

Peter pulled Stiles out on shore, noting how the boy didn't cover himself up, only the tattoo on his hip. The thing he was most ashamed about. He collected Stiles' clothes, the ones that were not too torn or bloody to wash. Neither of them said anything while Peter tended to both of them. They weren't hurrying to go anywhere, there was nowhere to go. Though they couldn't stay out in the open either, they had to move. Peter decided to lead them up the stream.

Ever since Peter had started travelling with Stiles, the fox was always talking to him. About things that didn't matter, about things that did. Peter had to listen to so much rambling he wished it would all go away, and now, when the only sound was the noise of the forest and the water next to them he realized he missed Stiles' voice. He looked over at the boy, just to find him in deep thought with dark circles under his eyes, without any life in his gaze.

"The sea..." Peter started quietly. "It's salty." he said, looking ahead of them. "They also say that there are enormous monsters living in it that can swallow whole ships. Do you want to see them?" Stiles didn't answer, just frowned, so Peter continued. "The water, it's not just blue, but green and purple.... red in some places. And there are shores where the waves glow in the dark. Oh, Stiles, the sky is also completely different than on land. It must be prettier than the sky in the Fox Lands." he added and Stiles visibly shivered. "What's so good about those Lands anyway? All that grass and those wide fields... must be boring. I suggest we go along the border to the south, to Sailor Town, catch a ship and never look back."

"Shut up..." Stiles muttered.

"What, you don't like it?" Peter asked casually, looking at Stiles for a moment. "Then I suggest we go North, see if the artic wolves would welcome us. Those ice caves must look magnificent, don't you think? Glinting and sparkling in the cold sunlight. Who would ever want to spend another muddy winter on the Fox Lands after experiencing a winter like in the North?"

"I said shut up!" Stiles snapped, stopping in his tracks to turn to Peter. "How would you know?! How would you know if these places are better than the Fox Lands?!"

"I heard a lot from travelers and fairly every place sounds better than those Lands." Peter shrugged, just to jump a little when Stiles threw his bag at him in his anger.

"No place is better than the Lands!" Stiles shouted at Peter. His voice was deep and he was trembling from rage. "You haven't been there, you haven't seen it! It's not your home, you don't even know what home is, you don't have one!"

Peter felt an overly familiar sensation in his shoulders. It was cold and sharp and he welcomed it like an old friend. Though his smile revealed nothing as he looked at Stiles.

"And you have one?" Peter asked, some of his own coldness coming through his words at Stiles. The fox's eyes widened at him. His eyes were so big and sad, when they’d first met they’d been full of spirit and determination. And Peter wanted to see it again. "Because if you want to lose it all, do it properly. Spit on the ground you came from, detest those people you call friends and family, but don't weep over it. Otherwise it will consume you." the wolf spoke and Stiles looked like he was in pain.

"I don't want to talk about this!" Stiles hissed and turned to walk again. "I need to-" he started as Peter caught his arm.

“You need to go home, Stiles. You obviously want to.” Peter said and Stiles yanked his arm, not even looking at him as he hurried ahead.

At the end of the day they were both tired,slow, hungry and quiet from their walk and Peter noticed that even in this hopeless state, his stomach could growl loudly for food, it was not giving up.

They found a cave the stream flowed through and Peter decided it will be a good place to rest and to make a fire that wouldn't draw attention. He didn't nag Stiles this time to gather firewood or to try and catch some fish, he let the fox rest as he didn't seem good for anything else at the moment. They both needed a time-out. Peter collected wood from nearby and he managed to capture a rabbit with a hastily set-up trap. Even he was surprised that they didn’t have to eat his famous snake stew this time.

Stiles was still quiet when Peter got back and made the fire. He didn't even comment on the rabbit, though Peter pushed a roasted leg in his hands in a silent threat to eat. The fox was too tired or didn't really care, but he ate, though Peter couldn't force any more food in him.

Stiles was usually the first one to sleep and the last one to rise, but not that night. That night neither of them could sleep…

“You never sleep?” Stiles asked quietly, when the moon was already down from the sky and the stars were waiting for the sun to outshine them. Peter looked over his shoulder at Stiles who was moving to sit next to him.

“Not really.” Peter admitted, eying the fox in the small light of the dying fire.

“Why?” Stiles asked in a hoarse voice, looking ahead into the forest, pulling up his knees to his chest.

“It takes me to places I don’t want to go.” the wolf answered quietly as a bird decided to call for a mate. Stiles shivered, hugging his knees and Peter knew that the boy understood what he was talking about.

“Where do you want to go then?” Stiles asked. “To the sea? To the Artic?” he muttered and Peter knew his own words were being thrown back at him. “Do you want to go home, Peter?”

“No.” the wolf said quietly. He didn’t want to. He didn’t.

“But I do.” the fox whispered, looking over at the other. Peter turned his head to him, seeing just a little spirit in Stiles’ eyes again. So he decided to go home. To face his family and friends and what he had done. He was already braver than Peter. “Will you come with me?”

“Stupid fox, I told you I’ll be the one bringing you back, didn’t I?” the wolf smiled, reaching out to pull Stiles closer.

They waited for the first rays of sun to give them light on the remaining journey. None of them wanted to wait too long and with their stomach full for another hard walk, it didn’t seem too hopeless anymore. On their way the forest was clearing out, the meadows started to be vaster and endless and Peter started to feel unusually itchy about it. He kept looking back at the forests and the distant mountains, at his homeland, as they were nearing the border. As a wolf he preferred the cool and dark forests, the rocks and boulders of the mountains, meadows and grass just screamed ‘danger’ at him. There was nowhere to hide, no prey to hunt, no places to make a nest or build a house. At one point when Peter looked back again, he felt something warm touching his fingers. It was Stiles, who took his hand and gently pulled him after him.

Peter let himself be lead, knowing that Stiles was more familiar with these lands. He was nearing home while Peter was leaving his and just now he started to understand how terrible Stiles must have felt all this time on the land of wolves. He squeezed the fox’s hand as they were walking in tall grass with the early spring sun shining down at them. In the distance, a tall gate in the color of sunset was starting to become visible. It was what they called the Fox Gate. Legend had it that the Gate was made by a fox deity when he was banished to the Land and wanted to go back to the Heavens. Though the Gate didn’t take him back to his Heavenly Palace, but to a forest where he would find his one true love amongst the people of the Land. He was the deity who taught foxes their fox magic and tricks. And that Gate was in front of them now. Stiles was picking up his steps and Peter followed.

And then, the meadow around them was almost shaking from the howl of a wolf. Peter stopped, holding Stiles’ hand tight as he was listening to the howl. It was painful and lonely and came from a distance. But it was so strong that it was carried far on the back of the light wind. It wasn’t an Omega looking for a pack, it was an Alpha’s howl, looking for…

“Scott!” Stiles shouted loudly. Peter frowned, but before he could say anything Stiles let his hand go and dashed ahead. “Scott!” the wolf blinked after him, hating the sight of Stiles running away from him like that. So he gathered himself and hurried after the stupid fox.

The howling was more and more loud and Stiles’ shouts were more desperate, even if he was getting out of breath as he was running. The Gate was getting closer and Peter didn’t take his eyes off Stiles’ back, only when he finally picked up on the scent of another wolf. The one with the howl of an Alpha, of a king’s. Peter looked ahead, his teeth baring as he spotted the Alpha in the distance, running toward them too.

“Scott!” Stiles shouted once again in a hoarse, breathless voice, but not slowing down.

As Peter watched the wolf reach Stiles and the fox put his arms around him in a tight hug, something ugly and green filled him up. Stiles wanted to get back to the Fox Gate, to his home, to this… Scott. A brother? A lover?

“I knew you’ll come back, I knew it!” Scott said, hugging Stiles tightly to him.

“Just so I can say ‘ha ha told you so’!” Stiles retorted, clinging to the wolf. Peter was getting closer too, his heart beating faster from something other than the rush of the run. This Scott was a wolf with the howl of a true Alpha on the border of the land. The one Scott that was whispered about, the Alpha of the McCall pack. Some even said he was the only capable challenger to the throne… But what did Peter care when this wolf had his paws all over his fox?

“Now, what a beautiful reunion, I feel weak in the knees just by looking at you.” Peter hissed and reached out to grab Stiles’ neck and practically pry him off the other.

“Wha- Who are you!?” Scott gasped when he saw Peter, his fangs and claws ready to charge at him.

“Wh- wait wait wait!” Stiles flailed as he stumbled while Peter was pulling him next to him with an iron grip on his neck. “Scott, Scott wait! He’s Peter, he helped me get here!” he said quickly. Of course that didn’t sound too believable when Peter was glaring at Scott like he wanted to tear his throat out and kept Stiles as some kind of hostage.

“Did he?” Scott asked frowning, still ready to attack.

“I did, Alpha, so you better wash your ears and listen to your friend.” Peter said in a low voice. “Now, I don’t want to hurt anyone or be hurt, mind you, but I do want my pay for this useless thing here.” he added, shaking Stiles a little who gave a pained complaint.

“Y-yeah, yeah he- he brought me here and he protected me! I promised some coins, but can we get back home now? Please?!” Stiles whined, trying to pry Peter’s hand off his neck.

“When he lets you go, we can.” Scott growled. There was a tense moment when Peter didn’t want to do as this boy said. He was the same age as Stiles, but he was already well known in the kingdom and Peter should have known. But then he slowly let go of the fox, though he was pleased to see that white skin had gone red under his handling. As Stiles started to walk, Peter reached for his wrist and grabbed it.

“What’s your problem!?” Stiles hissed at him, yanking at his arm.

“I’m overly tired of this journey and I’m absolutely impatient to get my pay as soon as possible.” Peter remarked with a growl and pulled Stiles after him when Scott showed the way.

“You’re being a bigger dick than usual.” the fox remarked, rubbing at his neck.

Scott led them to a huge mansion and along the way Stiles couldn’t stop talking to him, about the journey, about the hunters, about Jordan… And Scott handled it much better than Peter did. His head already started to hurt though he refused to let go of Stiles’ wrist. The place Scott led them to was _huge_. Peter never had thought that something this close to the border of the Wolf Kingdom can be so beautiful and untouched by feral wolves. But of course it must have to do with the fact that Scott was around.

Fox houses were a bit different than wolf houses. They lived in burrows and houses that were half buried in the ground. These houses were cool in the summer and cozy in the winter. And the household they arrived to was the same. It had a huge garden though there was no fence which would separate the land from the road. It seemed like a small village, but Peter knew of fox living habits and despite the many smaller houses, they all belonged to the same household. As they were walking to the biggest house in the center, more and more people came to greet them; wolves, foxes, even humans were around too. And Peter squeezed Stiles’ wrist tighter the more people gathered around. Some of them called for Stiles and the fox waved at them, but Scott motioned the pack members to stay back. They were still wary of Peter and he liked it that way.

As they arrived at the house an older man was waiting for them, worry made deep lines on his face, but it all lit up as he spotted Stiles. He was Stiles’ father, Peter could tell. He let go of the fox who bolted in the next moment to his father and hugged him just like he had Scott. In a way he’d never hugged Peter. This was Stiles’ home, his family, his pack, the wolf thought as he was looking around. Scott was eying him, still ready to protect the pack, and a few others did the same. Stiles was safe here, safer than he ever was with Peter. The wolf wanted to run, but he forced his knees not to tremble and calmed his heartbeat to an acceptable pace.

“So you were the one helping my son escape from the Kingdom?” the old fox started as he was walking toward Peter. The wolf tilted his chin up, looking at the old man with the confidence he didn’t really have.

“More like he paid me to bring him here.” Peter said, crossing his arms. “You owe me his life and until I get my payment, that fox is mine.” he added, motioning over at Stiles and ignoring his hurt expression. The old fox frowned a little confused, but before he could speak, Stiles did.

“Yes, yes that’s true, I promised him a payment, I wouldn’t be here without him.” Stiles said. His father eyed Peter still skeptical and the wolf smiled wider.

"What's your name, wolf?" he asked.

"My name is Peter Hale." the wolf answered and the people around went impossibly quiet. The old fox sent a look at his son then, but didn't comment further.

"Let me invite you inside and talk about the price." he said and motioned Peter inside the house. "And you, you should go and rest, son." he told Stiles and somehow Peter didn't want him to go. But the boy just nodded, not following them into the dining hall.

It all felt like a dream to Peter. The talk with the old Stilinski, the stating of the payment, it didn't feel real. Or maybe he just didn't want it to feel real. He was on the road with Stiles for so long he’d started to think it would last forever... The old fox agreed to Peter's four hundred gold and assured him he will get it all the next day. Until then he offered his hospitality. He also invited him to the dinner they will have for Stiles' return. The wolf wanted to refuse, but he didn't, though he had no idea why exactly.

Old Stilinski had Scott escort Peter to his room, which was a joy itself... Scott didn't look like he trusted him and that was fine. Peter didn't want to do anything with this strange pack anyway, and with the gold he will get he can go and have a life in Sailor Town, far from the oncoming war. And yet he couldn't stop smelling the air to catch Stiles' scent for even a moment. Though he ended up getting a completely different scent...

"You!" was Peter's only warning before someone slammed into him, knocking him off his feet into the ground. And Peter bared his teeth and prepared his claws, because yes, he wanted to get rid of all the tension he felt, he wanted this fight. But when the other wolf appeared hovering over him, all his fighting spirit left him... and he could just laugh. Because of course they would meet here.

"Derek. Now, nephew, such a pleasant surprise." Peter chuckled, just to receive a kick in the face. Derek apparently didn't see the irony. And now it was clear how Stiles seemingly knew about Peter's past. From Derek.

"How dare you show your face here?!" Derek grabbed his shirt to lift Peter up from the ground.

"I brought back the fox prince, I suppose I may have some right to be here." Peter growled, grabbing Derek's wrists. "Now, if you'd--" he started, but Derek was faster. He slammed Peter back on the ground with all his strength and the wolf saw stars.

"I should kill you right now!" he shouted.

"Oh, please, if you think that will help about anything then go on." Peter growled, coughing as he felt blood in his mouth. "It'd definitely save us a lot of awkwardness." he snorted, looking at Derek. It was years since they've seen each other. The last time Peter was still an Alpha and he was powerful... and already a murderer. He tried to explain to Derek that there were necessary sacrifices and Laura was one, but they could never agree.

Peter noted how Scott wasn't stepping in, only when it was sure Derek wouldn’t strike him.

"He'll get his pay and leave." Scott assured Derek and at that the wolf let go of the other. Peter laughed a little out of breath as he slowly sat up, wiping his mouth of blood. His blue eyes weren't turning away from his nephew. One of the last of his pack.

"Cora's here too?" Peter asked in a voice that felt strange to him too. It was like he wasn't the one asking, but someone else.

"What do you care, do you want to kill her too?" Derek lashed out and Peter was glad his face showed absolutely nothing of how that hurt. He just slowly stood up, saying nothing. They were done. In many more ways than one. Peter felt Derek's burning gaze on his nape even when he was left alone in his room.

It was a dark room, half buried in the ground with high windows that showed the afternoon sun. It smelled of earth and wheat and fox and Peter hated it. It was strange, dark and cold. The foxes didn't sleep on futons, but in a bed with big, fluffy pillows and huge fluffy covers and as Peter was eying it by the wall he wanted to leave.

Peter looked around the room again as if he was searching for something, but it was more like he was restless. His limbs were shivering, his heart couldn't calm down and cold sweat broke on his back. Soon, he was panting. His mind rushed along with his heartbeat and he felt too overwhelmed all of a sudden. All these people, Scott, Derek, this wasn't his place, he didn't belong at all. It was like being thrown into a lake with lead around his ankles, Peter was drowning and he was dying. The room was too small and dark and Peter wanted to bolt. Run and never look back.

He stumbled a little and wondered how he could run when his legs couldn't carry him anymore. Peter threw his bag down and kicked off his shoes, but as he sat on the bed and sank into the covers, he shivered. It was too soft and too warm and he didn't want that. So instead he dropped on the floor next to the bed. It was uncomfortable and the wolf welcomed the aching it brought to his limbs. He was dizzy and felt numb at his nape and in his neck and all in all he just wanted to disappear.

He never talked with Stiles about what will happen when they got back. Of what will happen to them, and the realization hit Peter like a rock. Stiles will stay and he will leave. That's how it should be. The wolf knew it will be like that from the start, but right now it hurt thinking about it when all he wanted was to catch Stiles' scent one last time and pretend he was home...

Peter had no idea what happened, but he most probably fell asleep. His mind trying to protect itself from the horrid images and feelings that were eating him alive, it was trying to give him a break. But he didn't want to sleep, his dreams were worse... He was trapped in fever dreams, felt his head grow heavy and his joints painful. He was getting sick while his mind was screaming at him, tearing at his sanity. And just when Peter thought he'll be trapped forever in this state he heard a voice that wasn't coming from his head. He wanted to push it away, but then two arms went around his shoulders and someone pulled him into a hug. And Peter knew this touch, he knew the weight of those arms around him, that heaving chest against his, he knew it well. He tilted his head to nuzzle at the other and took a deep breath. Under the soap and wine and roasted goose, he could smell Stiles.

Stiles said something Peter couldn't exactly get, all he felt was the fox's hand against his cheek. He wanted to open his eyes to look at him, but his eyelids felt so heavy. And then he heard himself talk.

"I'm not going anywhere." Stiles answered and Peter almost laughed. Well, he wasn't lying. Peter will be the one who leaves. He reached out, putting his arms around Stiles, feeling unfamiliar clothes under his touch. They weren't wolf clothes, but fox ones, from lighter material and softer to the touch. Stiles was home. Stiles had no use of him anymore. "Come on..." the fox muttered and attempted to pull Peter up from the ground, to make him sit on the bed. The wolf felt his limbs were heavy and as he finally opened his eyes he saw darkness. Night had fallen and the stars were peeking curiously into the room through the window. Peter turned his head toward Stiles to look at him. And he took his breath away.

"Stiles..." Peter muttered, a hand reaching out to touch the silly fox's face, idly wondering how it was possible to miss someone who was in his arms. Stiles wasn't smiling, he seemed scared and he smelled... distressed. But he was home, he should feel happy and content. Peter had no idea who leaned in for the kiss, all he knew was that in the next moment Stiles was kissing him roughly. He tasted like wine. Peter was about to comment when the fox reached for his shirt and tugged it off of him. And Peter let him. Stiles' hands were cold against his chest and Peter just realized he was burning up with fever and judging by Stiles' hesitation he noticed it too. But then his hands dropped low on Peter's body, untying his pants.

"I came to give you something." the fox said in a low, hoarse voice as he pulled off Peter's trousers. The wolf shifted his hips to help him, watching Stiles' long and cold fingers stroke his skin. Stiles realized it too. That this is the end of their journey. This was the last night.

The moment Stiles straddled him, Peter leaned in for a kiss. He wanted to feel and taste Stiles one last time and pretend it was fine. His other hand was finding its way under Stiles' tunic just to find skin. The wolf took in a sharp breath when he realized Stiles wasn't wearing anything under that tunic. He squeezed the boy's thigh possessively and Stiles gave the sweetest sound. Peter pulled him closer, rubbing his cheek against his, wanting his scent on his skin. He was kissing into his neck in a need to devour the fox, to taste him to make him his.

Stiles then took Peter's hand to slide it further, to his back.

"I-I prepared for you..." the fox whispered into his ear. And the wolf tried not to think how Stiles knew how to prepare himself despite being a virgin.

"Let me see." Peter muttered, his fingers sliding along, then slowly slipping past Stiles' entrance. He was wet and loose, yes, but Peter couldn't help his wandering fingers. He didn't want to hurt Stiles on their first and last night together. And he didn't want to rush either. He scolded Stiles before to not dwell in one moment, but this time he was guilty of it. Peter didn't want this night to end. "Oh, Stiles..." the wolf sighed, arching up to Stiles' body and noting how hard he was already. He wanted this fox more than anyone he ever had before...

Stiles was unusually quiet as he reached for the small jar on the bed. He must have realized what Peter already had. With unpracticed movements, he quickly coated the wolf. His fingers were shaking, but they were not cold anymore. Peter felt Stiles' hardness pushing against his thigh as he moved. Despite it being Stiles' first time, he wasn't hesitant, more like desperate. And Peter was taking it all, because he felt the same.

"Take this off." Peter breathed and grabbed Stiles' tunic to pull it off of him. "I want to..." but he couldn't finish, because as Stiles was free of his only garment he leaned in for a kiss. Peter moaned softly as their lips touched, his hands slid up Stiles' bare back, feeling his skin become warmer under his touch. He wanted to feel everything of the fox, because he wouldn’t be able to feel it again.

Stiles bared himself against Peter's shoulder as he lifted himself up on his knees. He reached for Peter's hardness to guide it inside him and he looked absolutely beautiful doing so. He was lean and white skinned, dotted with stars and Peter hated he couldn’t see the exact shade of pink Stiles had on. They both jumped when the boy took Peter in.

"Gently..." the wolf groaned and took a hold of Stiles' ass to help him. He was tight and hot and everything Peter wanted. He was moaning as his hips were working to take Peter in. He cursed quietly and the wolf leaned in to kiss those words off his lips, squeezing Stiles' ass where he was holding him. The boy's arms were sliding around his shoulders and Peter loved their weight around him. Stiles pressed close as he was seated tightly on his cock, leaning his forehead on Peter's shoulder. His breath was coming short as he was trying to get used to the sensation and the wolf let him. And then ever so slowly the boy moved and Peter saw stars. Stiles gave small moans as he moved his hips, making Peter go crazy.

"Is it good...?" Stiles asked, not looking up, but holding onto Peter tighter. He started to shiver and the wolf picked up the scent of nervousness. He sighed and cupped the back of Stiles' head and turned to kiss into his ear.

"It feels amazing." Peter whispered and this time he was the one who thrust up to meet Stiles' hips. The fox gave a surprised sound, shivering from pleasure. His scent got stronger in the air and Peter smiled against his cheek. "See? It feels amazing." the wolf added softly, thrusting up again just to hear that sweet moan of Stiles.

"Peter..." Stiles gasped and caught his lips in another clumsy kiss. It was like he wanted to taste Peter more and more and the wolf imagined that eager mouth somewhere else... He licked into Stiles' mouth, setting a tense pace with his hips and the fox completely lost it. He was kissing and moaning against Peter, his fingers clawing at the wolf's back while Peter held him tight around the waist. "Peter, wait, I'm- I don't wanna yet, I..." Stiles groaned when Peter grabbed his cock. His tip was already wet of pre-cum, dripping down his length, Peter used it to stroke him smoothly.

"Shh, Stiles it will be alright, come for me, be mine. It feels good doesn't it?" Peter said, hating how he sounded like he was begging. He looked up into Stiles' face, not slowing down. The boy grabbed his hand to hold him, but Peter took control. "Come for me, Stiles, I want to see you."

Stiles' eyes were closed and Peter wished he would open them. He wanted to see that vividly golden gaze as Stiles loses himself in pleasure. He wanted the fox to look at him. But as his swollen lips parted in a gasp, as sweat was glinting on his skin and his wet hair was sticking to his forehead, blushing from his cheeks all the way down to his cock, Peter found him the most beautiful. And he realized then, he fell for a fox. For a stupid, scrawny little fox... Following that thought Peter pulled Stiles close as he felt his peak too. With Stiles. He kept him close and tight to himself as he came, filling Stiles up roughly and taking something not even the king could. Peter was left panting against Stiles' neck, holding him tight as they were both still exhausted. Though the wolf noticed that Stiles was growing quiet and still, so he pulled back to see if he was alright.

But as Peter looked into Stiles' face, he saw the other one in his gaze. The dark fox was there, looking at him with an unreadable expression, yet Peter felt his soul being exposed, just like that time in the woods.

"Give him back." Peter heard himself whisper. And the fox grinned with dark eyes and too many teeth and said nothing. "Stiles." Peter called, reaching out to cup the boy's cheek. "Stiles, come back, you can do this."

"I like you." the thing said in a low, hissing voice and Peter wasn't sure if he should take it as a compliment... He opened his mouth to call for Stiles again, but then his eyes turned from dark to electric blue. And Peter smiled a little. Of course his eyes would be blue. As Stiles slowly realized he wasn't sleeping, his breathing picked up.

"It's alright Stiles, calm down." Peter soothed him, being a little alarmed himself too. "Nothing bad happened, it's fine, you were wonderful." he whispered as he slowly helped the fox to move from his lap.

"He didn't hurt you, right?" Stiles panted, grabbing onto Peter's arms as he helped him lie down on the bed.

"Quite the contrary." the wolf muttered.

"I think I blacked out when I..." the fox stuttered and Peter kissed him to calm him. Stiles kissed back, clinging to him. "We have to do it again." Stiles whimpered.

"Amazing recovery time you have there, Stiles." Peter chuckled, settling next to the boy. "But give me just a few more minutes." Stiles was looking at him, his eyes back to that brown Peter was overly fond of. Damn it. How he will miss them.

Stiles just laughed a little, nuzzling at Peter's collarbone. And then he fell silent, which didn't suit him. Peter wanted him to talk about the Fox Lands again, about his home, about anything... Or just moan Peter's name.

"I'm ready." the wolf muttered and turned Stiles on his stomach. "I'll show you how much better the second time can be." he smirked, kissing at the back of Stiles' neck much to the fox's delight.

In the Kingdom Peter would wake in forests or towns. Both were noisy in their own way; the towns were loud from drunks, merchants and all the passing people, the forest had the early birds calling for each other and greeting the sun. But in the Lands, Peter woke to the noise of the spring breeze playing with the long grass. He heard insects instead of birds along with small rodents. It was too quiet for his taste. He opened his eyes, looking around in the room. It looked much better than the afternoon before. It didn't seem as dark and small... But maybe it was because Stiles was in it too, nestled under the covers.

Foxes were ridiculous, Peter thought as he watched the still sleeping boy next to him. He was snuggled up under the huge covers, looking smaller than he actually was. The pillow and the covers were really like a nest around them, giving them soft warmth in the chilly spring morning. Peter didn't really want to move, but he couldn't help lean over to nuzzle at Stiles' messy hair that was peeking out from under the covers. The fox gave a soft sigh and moved closer. Oh, that was so much better. Peter smiled and pulled Stiles to him and pretended that this was what home felt like.

"Your fever is down." Stiles murmured in a sleepy voice, pressing his cold nose to Peter's bare chest.

"And you have a hangover." Peter commented. Stiles didn't answer, his hand was stroking Peter's side absently.

"You hate it here, don't you?" he asked. "I could see, you hate this place, you hate this pack... That's why you were like that last night." he said, tilting his head to raise his sleepy gaze at Peter.

"It had something to do with it." the wolf admitted quietly. Stiles just sighed, looking at Peter which seemed a bit like pity. "Will you be safe here?"

"Scott is a strong Alpha and--"

"I didn't mean it like that." Peter cut in sharply, shaking his head a little. Stiles blushed, hiding his face in the wolf's chest.

"They will find a way to get rid of it, I'm sure. If it gets bad, I agreed to be locked up." Stiles said at last, making Peter growl.

"You said it will be fine if you get here." he huffed, rolling his eyes.

"What do you care, you'll leave anyway." Stiles snapped weakly, pushing them into an awkward silence. "Right...? I mean, you hate it here, I heard Derek wanted to kill you screaming and all and Scott... Scott just, yeah he knows you're a horrible person."

"I just woke up and you're already insulting me." Peter sighed, absently stroking Stiles' hair. "I should go." he said at last and felt Stiles tense up against him. "I got half my payment, I'll take the rest and leave."

"I'm sorry." Stiles said suddenly.

"What for?" Peter sighed and forced himself to sit up, otherwise he'd really never leave.

"For saying you don't have a home..." the fox muttered into the pillow. Peter chuckled weakly, reaching out to dig his fingers into Stiles' hair gently.

"There's nothing to apologize for, you were right after all." he said and moved to get out of bed, shivering at the chilly air after the cozy covers. Stiles stayed in bed, turning to look at him.

"I could give you one." Stiles said and Peter trembled from something else than the cold. The fox basically asked for his hand. He didn't look at him as he put on his clothes.

"But I can't give you one." Peter answered quietly. "Goodbye, Stiles." he said at last, took his bag and left. Just like that. Stiles watched the door for a long time, hoping that Peter left something and he would come back, but he didn't.

The fox huffed and turned toward the wall, hiding under the covers. Peter's warmth and scent was still there and Stiles could pretend he was still in bed with him. He met so many irritating wolves in the Kingdom, but Peter was the worst. Stiles already had a home, he didn't want one from Peter. He wanted a home _with_ him. Stupid wolf. Stiles closed his eyes tightly, but it only made his tears roll down his cheeks. He sniffed, burying his face into the pillows. When he met Peter he had never thought that it would hurt to let him go. And that it would hurt this much...

Stiles had no idea how long he stayed in Peter's bed. If it concerned him, he wouldn't get up until Peter's scent was gone from the pillow, but the day had something else planned for him.

"Stiles!" he heard Scott's voice and groaned. He hid under the covers, but of course the wolf's nose couldn't be fooled. Stiles didn’t really care that his scent must have been an awful mix with some other wolf’s… "Stiles, is this guy for real?!" Scott shouted, grabbing at the covers.

"Scott, can't you see I'm in the middle of some serious brooding here?!" Stiles groaned and tried to hide away.

"You can continue that later! What did you promise to Peter? As payment?" Scott asked, reaching for Stiles.

"What do you mean, I promised him gold..." Stiles whined, not actually being in the mood to talk about Peter. Though as he turned his head to look at Scott, he grew suspicious. "Why...?" he asked, frowning.

The answer Scott gave to Stiles made him angry at first. Absolutely furious. How could a wolf like Peter be such a bastard? But then, Stiles became confused, because it didn’t make any sense. It wasn't making sense _at all_.

"I need to talk to him!" Stiles arrived out of breath to the dining hall where his father would hand over the coins to Peter. But the pouch was lying on the table between them, untouched.

"You better." old Stilinski warned, raising an eyebrow at his son.

"I-In private." Stiles swallowed, blushing. His father just eyed him with slight suspicion.

"Fine." he said at last and asked the foxes and wolves who had gathered to leave the room.

"Word sure travels around here fast." Peter remarked once everyone was out of the hall except Stiles. He slowly stood up and Stiles wanted to smack him.

"What are you doing?!" he asked, hurrying to Peter. "We agreed on the gold!"

"I changed my mind." Peter smirked, shrugging.

"But that… Those lands, they…” Stiles stuttered, not really sure what he wanted to actually say. He was eying Peter who was still looking at him with that awful smirk, waiting for Stiles to figure it all out. “You asked my father for lands on the Eastern border of the Kingdom, fifty acres of the Side lands.” Stiles said, rubbing the bridge of his nose and feeling a headache coming.

“I indeed did that.” Peter nodded, crossing his arms and turning to the fox.

“But those lands are royal property, those lands belong to the Wolf King!” Stiles shouted exasperated.

“And the Kingdom has no king now.” Peter said, tilting hid head to the side. “But this pack has just the man for the position now, hasn’t it? Isn’t this why you volunteered to take darkness in your mind and sneak into the Palace? Isn’t this the exact reason of the king’s death?” the wolf continued and Stiles’ eyes widened. “I know Chris Argent is highly respected in the Human Empire, he can influence the Ministers there. They would march next to Scott, wouldn’t they? Stiles, don’t think I’m stupid. This pack, you… all these people here wanted to tear down the Wolf King and put Scott on the throne.”

“He’d make the best king the Kingdom could have…” Stiles muttered quietly and Peter’s knowing smile widened.

“Now, if he’ll be king, those lands will be his property. And then, he could give them to me. So, my offer stands, I want the Side lands.” he said, cocking up his chin and Stiles felt his knees go weak.

“Are you serious?” the fox asked in a hollow voice.

“Am I ever not?” Peter asked back. Stiles swallowed as the reality of the situation was collapsing on him. Scott wouldn’t be king in one or two days. They need time for that, they will have to fight battles on the field and in fancy rooms too. They have to go into a revolting kingdom and prove themselves. It will take a long, long time. And for all this time, Stiles will be in debt of Peter…

“It means…” Stiles started, watching Peter walk to him.

“It means I can’t exactly leave now, can I? Until I get those lands, you’re mine.” Peter said, reaching out to cup the fox’s cheeks with both hands. Stiles felt his throat tighten. This wolf, this son of a bitch wolf was playing the silliest game. But Stiles couldn’t say he didn’t like it. He loved it. It suited both of them terribly. He was looking into that clever blue gaze, not sure if he hated or loved Peter at the moment.

“So this is how much I’m worth to you?” Stiles teased quietly, cheeks blushing. “Fifty acres of land?”

“Now now, Stiles, don’t be silly.” Peter chuckled, leaning his forehead against the boy’s. “I couldn’t ask for the whole kingdom now, could I?” he smiled and Stiles decided he will kiss Peter instead of smack him. He figured they would have time for both of those things later anyway.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I so wish I had more time and energy for this fic and if I could have made it chaptered... but maybe the next one. :D


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